Dear Wife,
Please write this on my behalf, as you already interrupt me, finish my sentences, and speak for me on a regular basis. Below please find a partial list of things I should’ve told you thirteen years ago:
In my late twenties, I will decide that black is my favorite color and all I want to wear. I’ll decide you look best in black too. As a testament of my love for you, I will present you with a short-sleeved black t-shirt for your 30th birthday gift, when you are 2 months postpartum with our first child. I will quickly realize your tears do not express joy.
You might not recognize my brand of perfectionism. It involves procrastination. In fact, at some point you suggest making me a t-shirt that reads “Not At This Particular Moment” as it will become my motto in life.
No, I am not mad at you.
I am not thinking anything.
Nothing is wrong.
I’m happy to cuddle with you, but Jesus Woman, I have my limits. Same with back-scratching and talking. Eventually I will need to get up and move around—like after two hours.
I heart leaf blowers. I will see you gesticulating furiously at me, but thankfully I will not hear you over the roar of my foliage rocket. I cannot help myself. There are some things a man has got to hold on to.
In my early thirties I will suggest that I never need to hear from you the phrase “Why Don’t You…” ever again. In my life.
How about I begin smoking at age 30? I think I’ll choose Cloves.
I don’t want to ruin this surprise, but I’m going to allow you to pick out, mail, and sign all greeting cards for my family. Forever. Now I love me some cranky Maxine, but I’d feel greedy hoarding all this joy that you can so efficiently spread to my family of origin.
I strongly believe that unopened mail belongs in piles.
Oh, and one more thing. I fear spiders, mice, and any manner of household freaky-deakies. You’re on your own babe. Here’s a lifetime supply of paper towels. Hold me!
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
In my late twenties, I will decide that black is my favorite color and all I want to wear. I’ll decide you look best in black too. As a testament of my love for you, I will present you with a short-sleeved black t-shirt for your 30th birthday gift, when you are 2 months postpartum with our first child. I will quickly realize your tears do not express joy.
You might not recognize my brand of perfectionism. It involves procrastination. In fact, at some point you suggest making me a t-shirt that reads “Not At This Particular Moment” as it will become my motto in life.
No, I am not mad at you.
I am not thinking anything.
Nothing is wrong.
I’m happy to cuddle with you, but Jesus Woman, I have my limits. Same with back-scratching and talking. Eventually I will need to get up and move around—like after two hours.
I heart leaf blowers. I will see you gesticulating furiously at me, but thankfully I will not hear you over the roar of my foliage rocket. I cannot help myself. There are some things a man has got to hold on to.
In my early thirties I will suggest that I never need to hear from you the phrase “Why Don’t You…” ever again. In my life.
How about I begin smoking at age 30? I think I’ll choose Cloves.
I don’t want to ruin this surprise, but I’m going to allow you to pick out, mail, and sign all greeting cards for my family. Forever. Now I love me some cranky Maxine, but I’d feel greedy hoarding all this joy that you can so efficiently spread to my family of origin.
I strongly believe that unopened mail belongs in piles.
Oh, and one more thing. I fear spiders, mice, and any manner of household freaky-deakies. You’re on your own babe. Here’s a lifetime supply of paper towels. Hold me!
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
A belated BIG thanks Missy for my "Funniest Shit All Week Award" AND for "keepin' it real and tellin' it like it is" Missy, those are the best compliments you could ever give me. People, go check out her bibs (and I'm not talkin' grown up overalls)...
And to new bloggy friend Fiona over at Bantering Blonde: Thank you for the "Bloggy Friend" award. You're blog is witty as described and I love the way you put so much bloggy camaraderie into the sphere. Thanks, friend!
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