I am a wife. A badly serious wife claiming an old-fashioned relationship but which I ask my husband to get rid of the cobwebs from the ceiling while I wash the dishes. I volunteer to cook then, I interrupt his cozy movies so he could poison test the food.
Or, with our mutual understanding, where he would let me buy my shoes and clothing and so he could buy his own Star Wars or Marvel collections. Fair enough. No lengthy questions asked.
I am a happy wife with a caring husband who never fail to surprise me with fresh donuts on a Saturday morning. Well, he goes out to get fresh bagels but when he sees the queue is long, he’ll end up getting breakfast from the nearby Dunkin Donuts store. His reason: I would start calling him on the phone if he was not home after 20 minutes had passed.
During his 40th birthday, my husband shed tears when I gave him a simple gift – a slideshow of his childhood photos with the background song “Thirty Nine and Holding” by Jerry Lee Lewis. He is a comic guy, in his own right but you know, even comedians have tender hearts.
In one of our casual nights, husband and wife scene in the bedroom:
Husband: Come here, hunny and cuddle with me. [Eyes wide open].
Wife: [Approach husband with a hug.] Hunny, I can’t sleep yet. I’m in the mood to write for my blog. Any idea for a topic?
Husband: Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea to ask me that two seconds before I go to sleep. [Eyes closed. Snoring sounds after less than a minute.]