My Husband and The Twisty Tie

by asktheprgirl

haley 21

I brag about my husband all the time.  I brag about him because he is so good to me.  I want him to know how much I love him, how much I’m still attracted to him and how much his strength, generous spirit and humility is such an amazing foundation for our family.  Prior to being found by him (because “he who finds a wife finds a good thing”), I was in an incredibly toxic relationship.  I’m talking the kind of toxic that it’s a marvel that I made it out AIDS-free and in my right mind.  I was with a man whom I constantly gave permission to rape me of my self-esteem and my ability to trust.  He lied.  All the time.  Just because.  The only thing real about that relationship was my presence.  Everything else was smoke and mirrors.  Folks tried to tell me, but I didn’t listen.  I was a fool in love and as my Sissy always says, “God saves fools and babies.”  Thank God for His saving grace.  When Hubby Honey found me, I was brave enough to let go of the past and embrace the beautiful possibility of a bright future.

I often brag on my husband and our marriage to my friends via social media because I hate how people disparage marriage.  It’s hard work and not everyday is pretty, but there’s so much joy.  I’ve discovered things about myself while in his care that I believe I would’ve never known.  Being his wife has given me a freedom to fearlessly express myself and become exactly who I’m meant to be in this life.  That’s a heavenly gift.  That’s how I know that I know that I know this man is meant for me.  I shout it to the world so that people aren’t afraid to give marriage a shot.  When you find a “good egg” like my Hubby Honey, it’s worth all of the effort.  And it is indeed a LOT of effort.

As much as I love this man, it absolutely unnerves me how someone who has roughly 5 items on his to-do list each week, can forget some of the things I ask him to do.  He goes to work, takes out the trash and handles any of the exterior housework (Note: We have landscapers because Hubby has allergies so in my mind, you’re not actually handling the yard work when you outsource).  That’s it.  So can someone please tell me how this man “forgets” to put the twisty tie back on the bread like I’ve asked time and again?!  How hard is it to make sure the freaking loaf of bread stays fresh?? I didn’t ask him to split the atom and bring me the solution! I asked him not to leave the damn bread bag open when he makes a sandwich.  His refusal to comply is almost enough to cause me to smack him upon sight and leave him asking, “What the hell?!?! What did I do???”

Before we got married, we lived together and I’m so thankful we did.  While it’s not traditionally an accepted course of action, it was exactly what I needed.  I would have killed my husband had I have married him and then learned of all of his … his … idiosyncrasies.  The fact that he would throw his dirty clothes beside, around and on top of the dirty clothes hamper instead of lifting the lid and putting them inside literally almost sent me to self committal into Promises.  It would’ve been my only choice outside of killing him.  It would make me so mad that I’d stare at him while he slept.  I think I even slapped him out of his sleep one night.  I was mad as hell and couldn’t believe he could sleep so well considering the hell I was living in.  I just thought he should join the party.

The twisty tie and the hamper only scratch the surface.  He cleans the kitchen because he can’t stand for dirty dishes to be left out over night, but he doesn’t wipe down the counters.  How the hell does washing the dishes ONLY count as cleaning the kitchen?!  How can you do the dishes and fail to wipe the food off the counter?!?!  Who does that??? My husband.  My sweet, loving, ridiculous husband.  He “helps” me out by doing the laundry, BUT he fails to wash 60 percent of my clothes because “they seem fancy” and he “doesn’t want to ruin them”, and the clothes he does wash either get left in hamper or “folded” and stacked on my side of the bed.  When I do laundry, everyone’s clothes are neatly folded and put away.  Hubby Honey doesn’t put my clothes away because he “doesn’t know where they go”.  We’ve lived together for almost 10 years.  What kind of sense does that make??

If I sat here and listed all of his infractions, I’m sure women all around the world would wonder how in the hell I’m able to provide such an accurate account of their man’s habits.  It’s crazy that men can’t do the simple household items, but never miss changing out their Fantasy Football players each week.  They never forget all of the codes and signals and stuff necessary to play football and combat captain (or whatever the hell it’s called) on XBox.  He never ever forgets to watch every freaking football game on Sunday, Monday, Thursday and Saturday.  *sigh*

BUT, he also never forgets to tell me I’m pretty.  He never forgets to champion everything I do no matter how big or how small.  He never forgets to help me with our little one.  He never forgets to rub my feet when I’ve had a long day.  He never forgets to tell me he’s proud of me.  He never forgets to make me feel so sexy, no matter how unsexy I feel at the time.  He never ever forgets to tell me he loves me.  I not only hear it, but feel it too.  And he makes me laugh. I’m talking soul stirring, doubled over, center of my joy laughter.  The kind of laughter that washes away your fear, fills you with light and makes the tough days melt away.

Marriage is a roller coaster, but last I checked, people enjoy rollercoasters, right?  I don’t love everything about my husband and there are certainly moments when I “question his thought process” as my girlfriend says of her husband, but he is quite possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  With him I’m at peace.  I never worry about tomorrow when Hubby Honey is near.  I never worry period.  He’s my rock.  I can depend on him 24/7, 365.  I never have to doubt him.  Ever.  And that kind of solidarity is priceless to me.

Now if I could only get him to put the twisty tie back on the damn bread …

Until next time, AskThePRGirl