He lets me get huge items that I never take care of- like the swimming pool- knowing that he'll have to do all the work while I lounge around on my raft watching the algae grow. And he loves me anyhow.
He lets me get sheepdogs even though he not-so-secretly hates them. Because he loves me.
He furrows his brow in disapproval when I find sticks in the yard to poke him with. (He really hates that game.) But it makes me laugh like a hyena so he puts up with it.
When I climb on the mechanical pony at Walmart and scream "BUT YOU SAID IN THE CAR I COULD RIDE IT!!" he doesn't divorce me. He just walks away pretending he doesn't know me.
And I love him even though he will always hang a folded wet wash cloth over a previously folded wet wash cloth until they make a Babel tower of moldy stinky washcloths. (I finally asked him why he does this the other day. His answer was "I don't want them to get lonely." 10 points to Gryffindor.)
And even though I complain from time to time on Facebook that I want to strangle him, I never do. Because he is my only weakness. So I'm forced to do my complaining on Facebook because I'd rather cut off my fingers than confront him face to face and hurt his feelings. So I tell the rest of the world and they confront him for me. I'm sneaky that way.
He can talk me into all kinds of dumb ideas. And I will always fall for it. That's how I ended up pregnant, I'm pretty sure.
He makes me laugh.
He fashioned these glasses so he could sleep during the next
mandated OSHA meeting at the mill where he works.
Occasionally he feeds me. He buys me outrageously priced Christmas presents when the cheap version would have made me just as happy. He buys me cards and doesn't sign them. He gets Fat Gladys wound up and then laughs and points at me when she ambushes me and bites my meaty ankles.
He doesn't care if I look like crap all day and I let him wear ugly sweaters out in public. (If that's what he chooses to wear I'm ok with it. I will just have to remember to hide them better for next year...)
Together we're like two unattended 8 year olds living alone in a big house. We talk in movie monologues. We can relate everything that happens in life to a Seinfeld episode, and we quote it. We have light saber wars every Christmas with the empty cardboard wrapping paper tubes. We play air instruments furiously in the car when a good song comes on. We both appreciate the value of a good nap.
We like to look at other people like THEY'RE the weird ones. We're our own version of normal. We've had crappy times and happy times, poverty stricken times and times of prosperity. We've been sick, we've been healthy. I would have totally killed and buried a lesser man in the back yard by now. I've seen what's out there and I'm pretty of it. So yeah. He's stuck with me forever cause he's the only one I really like. And if he leaves me, I'll just stalk him.