He is the joke to my serious side, the comedian to my disciplinarian.
When the world seems dark and dreary, he makes me turn off the news and helps me find my joy
When I get all crazy that because my wedding rings feels super tight and fear my finger might actually be broken? He reminds me it is 40 flipping degrees Celsius out. It’s hot and sticky and I ate my weight in popcorn last night. It’s the heat and the salt baby. This too shall pass. He calms me down.
He reminds me that a headache, is just that. A headache. Dr. Google is not my friend. (I’m actually not allowed to google medical symptoms anymore, it’s not good for my mental health)
I’m sure that this outfit, the seventh I have tried on, is just as bad as the first six. He truly cares, and helps me find something I feel good in. He loves me enough to help me find a pair of “you don’t look fat in those pants”. He makes me feel better. Besides, who’s going to see me – we rarely leave the house.
He gets that sometimes chocolate chip cookies are the perfect breakfast food. He doesn’t judge, as a matter of fact, sometimes he even bakes.
He finds it endearing…ok he tolerates it, when he finds croutons in the bed. Who eats salad in bed? Um Me. Okay, usually it’s popcorn, but sometimes it’s salad.
He knows if I’m in a bad mood……that it is best to never ever ask if I have PMS, or acknowledge that mood! Actually it might be best not to make eye contact, just bring chocolate.
He shakes his head and plays along when I ask him for the third time in a row; “Are you sure this chicken isn’t pink?”.
He will even taste the milk to assure me it isn’t sour. He doesn’t like it, but he does it.
He gets my particular kind of crazy. He is the calm to my spaz, and the quiet to my chat.
He assures me everything will be alright, even when neither of us are sure it will never be the same again….
Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am for his love, our family, and yes the strength found from 100 plus days quarantined in a house in the suburbs.
