You know I love you with all of my heart. And it is that love that allows me to overlook some things that might be an issue for a lot of women. But not me.
For example, your amazing ability to burp the equivalent of what I am assuming is the roar of lion, and then ask anyone in the room "Did you hear that?" Some women might find this offensive. Repulsive even. But not I. The love I carry within allows me to accept. And dare I say, even be amused.
And then there's that little habit of eating popsicles in bed at night while we are watching TV. There are women who might find this annoying. But not I. I know how you enjoy a nice frozen treat and that is why I continue to buy them for you. Hiding them on the top shelf of the freezer so the kids don't find them. Often traveling to various stores to find the specific brand and flavor you prefer. My love for you gives me the patience and energy to persevere in the popsicle search.
And I have no problem with your participation in year round fantasy league activities. Although I don't understand the point of playing pretend baseball, football and basketball and for the life of me can't fathom why it is so extremely serious when it is, after all, JUST PRETEND. But it brings you joy and that is all that matters. It is the love within my heart that urges me to open the doors of our home to eleven of your closest sweaty friends and provide them with homemade baked goods, chips and three choices of dip, sandwiches, and of course, beer. And this love allows me to look the other way when they spill on my carpet and make fun of the festive matching paper plates and napkins that I buy especially for the occasion. Whatever. Your happiness is my happiness.
There are some women who might have issues with their husbands staying up until all hours of the night playing simulated war games with a group of 13 year old boys in Atlanta on the XBOX 360. But the fact that you are young at heart is one of the things I love about you most.
Our love allows me to accept the fact that, although you are a 36 year old man (yes, you are, even though you continue to tell our children you are only 30, I know the truth), you are very in touch with your inner 13 year old boy. And that is fine. I am mature enough for the both of us.
However, and listen closely, your behavior yesterday evening was completely unacceptable and will not be tolerated. While I appreciate you manning up and killing the gigantic cricket on the wall near my side of the bed last night, I most certainly DO NOT appreciate you using MY SHOE as your murder weapon of choice. Especially when you did it as an act of immaturity. Just because you knew it would gross me out and you thought it was funny. Not. Funny. At. All.
My brand new, lavender and gold, rhinestone studded, Tinker Bell flip flops. Now tainted with yucky squished up cricket guts. Ew.
Next time, be a grown up. Use your own stupid shoe.
With Love, Affection and Admiration,
Your Adoring Wife of 14 Years