Sometimes being married's a riot, sometimes it ain't...

And when it's not all fun (which is rare because, come on, I'm the perfect wife) I remind myself of all the things I love about being permanantly attached to my man, like:

How he always has an endless supply of gum in his car. I'm never without a way of freshening up my breath.

How he eats whatever I cook and only complains if it is soup, meat-less salad as the main course, or lemon pepper pasta (which we both got sick from after eating once and now the mere thought brings tears to his eyes and smells to his nose). But even then he'll eat it and say thanks.

How he spanks my bum every night as I step on the second stair to go up to bed. And every night I say, "Dave, stop it!", and he rolls his eyes and does it again.

How he just smiles and pauses Sports Center nightly as I make comments like, "remember Detlif Schrempf and how he was so ugly and had the worst non-existant side burns ever?", or "Sam Cassell. Remember how you think he's the most ugly guy alive and I don't think he's bad and that it bothers you that I'm not repulsed by him?". He loves my interest in all things althetic.

How he has now learned (or is willing) to iron his own shirts now, after 9 years of me procrastinating it and him waking up for work every morning to a closet full of wrinkly button-downs.

How he somehow knows EVERYTIME I use his razor instead of mine. I'd say it was annoying except he must be some sort of hound dog that can magically sniff out such an atrocious crime, and THAT is impressive.

How he does the dishes every single night right after dinner. They don't even sit on the counter or in the sink for 10 minutes. He clears the table and, whala, my kitchen is in order. This is why I shouldn't serve him vegetarian fare often, because he totally deserves to have his meat, wouldn't you say?

How he tells me I'm pretty even when I'm wearing my rastafari colored pj combo and my hair is out of control.

How he gives me a back scratch/rub ever night without fail. Well, unless I've been really naughty and don't deserve one. But I maintain I always deserve one.

How he works himself silly so that I can stay home and complain about staying home. Sometimes I don't think I could put up with me. Heaven help him.

How he is so so funny. Not because he's really all that funny, but he thinks he's really funny, and that is really funny. Funny, no?

How his smile is the most calming, sweet, good think I ever see, and when I'm my frazzled mess it can make it all better. He's like my straitening balm, my BioSilk if you will.

Obviously I could keep going, but since today hasn't been half-bad I don't need to remind myself of any more. Oh wait...

How when I say, "Hey hon, I'm gonna take off tonight with the girls, okay? Just pour you guys some cereal for dinner and I'll see you later", how he always just grins and hugs me and hands me some extra cash and tells me to stay out as late as I want and that he'll have the whole house spick and span when I return. Man I love that, Dave. Hint. Hint.