Let Me Count The Ways
I laugh at my husband – a lot. This is because I find human behavior very funny, and I get to observe his behavior more than most other humans. Except myself of course. I watch myself obsessively… and I am a riot.
My husband can be ridiculous and he can be annoying, both of which a fun to write about.
But today is a day for reflection and an appreciation of the sweetness of life. So here are some of the reasons why I love my husband:
1. He’s a genius. (and not just because he can see how awesome I am.) He can fix anything – furnaces, cars, computers. Once he even fixed my bracelet. He can look at the innards of stuff and figure out what each gizmo should or should not be doing, and then he can get them to behave.
He built our house. It’s fabulous. And he installed a generator. It comes on automatically when we lose power. That was very handy two weeks ago. And although it doesn’t provide power to every outlet in the house, my husband made sure that there is power to the outlet where I plug in my hairdryer.
2. He’s protective. I’d taken care of myself for a very long time before I met him. It’s nice to relinquish some of that. I have a champion. He offered to beat up a boss who was mean to me, and although I declined, I did enjoy envisioning it.
When we first got married, we lived in a quiet neighborhood. But my husband still worried about me crossing our mostly deserted road to go to our mailbox.
“How did I ever cross the street before I met you?” I asked jokingly.
“I don’t know. It’s a miracle you’re alive,” he answered seriously.
3. He likes bad music. When we take a long car trip, he makes sure to pack all his Gene Autry CDs. If, after several hours, I politely request something more modern, he’s ready with The Beach Boys.
“The Beatles ruined everything,” he often states, knowing full well that I adore The Beatles.
He doesn’t want music that will change the world. He wants a dude singing about his car. But if he’s stuck in time musically, he’s also stuck in a very appealing way. To him, I’m still young, and pretty… and thin.
4. He’s a very serious guy. He worries. He’s not lighthearted. He’s never silly. He’s a built-in challenge that sharpens my wit. It thrills me to get him to laugh. Of course, if I can’t, I can always turn on “World’s Dumbest.” There’s nothing like a teenager smacking himself in the head with his own skateboard to make my husband roar.
5. He married me. This sounds like a pathetic, needy gratitude. But hell, it’s true. I met him when I was thirty-eight. My life up until then was full of men, each briefly, with long stretches of solitude in between. I wasn’t unhappy being single; as a matter of fact, the older I got, the more I liked it. But at thirty-eight, I did begin to wonder if, just maybe, I might be the teensiest bit unloveable. But I’m not. One crazy, but very smart, guy loves me.