Prayers for the tragedy in France. “Peace cannot be achieved through violence, it must be attained through understanding” – Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Welcome to the newly renovated The View Through The Window. I was getting tired of that old theme and I like to switch things up now and then. I hope you like this new blog style as much as I do. Now back to our regularly scheduled blog post.
He’s the good cop to your bad cop. The fun loving parent to your disciplinarian. The one who sneaks your kids candy during time outs. I quote, “Daddy’s awesome and you suck.”
Point noted.
Husbands. You gotta love em. And because we love them, let’s start with all the things they do that make them wonderful :
-He comes home after work.
Moving on.
I’m just kidding. We all know husbands do a lot more good than just come home from work. Let’s add to the list.
-He comes straight home from work.
Still kidding. Don’t get your boxers in a bunch. The real list follows :
-He comes straight home from work to a crabby wife and hyper kids, yet still manages to remain upbeat.
-Is tired as hell but tells you to take a break.
-Knows exactly what to do when you’re angry. When I’m mad at him, my husband starts cleaning. He strongly believes that cleanliness is next to godliness because it prevents your wife from doing that head turning thing from the Exorcist.
-Doesn’t question the logic behind why I can be as grumpy as I want but he gets in trouble for not smiling enough.
-Worked for years at a job he hated because he felt he had to. His hard work is what made it possible for me to stay at home with our kids. This is the reason why I call my husband the real superman. That and because he’s survived being married to me for so long.
-Is ever supportive, whether it’s you wanting to go back to school, starting a blog or turning off all the lights and pretending no one’s home when the neighbor’s annoying kids show up uninvited.
-Is the world’s greatest dad. My husband has more patience than a monkey has love for bananas. He can play make believe games with my boys for hours. I would rather clean the house. Or watch paint dry. Or clean the house while I watch paint dry.
-He lets you blog about him.
And since nothing and no one is perfect, here are things he does that make him so very annoying :
-You send him to the supermarket for cauliflower and he returns with lettuce. You ask for parsley and he gets spinach.
-Half your kitchen stuff ends up where it shouldn’t be when he unloads the dishwasher.
-His version of cleaning is to dump everything in the kids’ toy box and/or the closet.
-You can always count on him to not answer his phone.
-Wouldn’t know his way around the kitchen even if it came equipped with exit signs.
-Thinks it’s okay to have a conversation with you when you’re brushing your teeth. Or through the bathroom door when you’re perched on the toilet. But thou shall not interrupt the watching of football game.
-Thinks we are out of <fill in the blank> if a sixty second search for it yields nothing.
-Grins and says But I picked you when you tell him his taste sucks.
-Thinks sitting down to pee is a strange and foreign concept.
-His looking for something usually ends up with you finding it for him.
-His lack of attention to detail and failure to pick up on social cues makes you wonder if he spent his adolescent years devoid of human interaction. When I was pregnant and mine no longer fit, my husband thought it was okay to tell my family I was wearing his underwear.
-Hogs the blanket. Tosses and turns enough to wake the dead. My husband’s nocturnal bed shaking (no, not that kind) once even woke him up. He turned to me, still half asleep, and asked was there an earthquake? to which I replied no, darling, your ass was just doing its sleep aerobics thing again.
-Leaves all pantry and cabinet doors wide open. Shutting them makes you feel like Vanna White after an exceptionally large puzzle solving on an early 90’s episode of Wheel of Fortune. You know, before it went all touch screen.
-He lets you blog about him with the condition that you will do a similar post on wives.
Needless to say, I accepted the challenge.