Why I love my husband, part GOK
Nov. 18th, 2010 09:14 pmThere was a period in mid-2004 when I was invested in giving The Talk to every teenager who would sit still for it.
"Seriously, darling. Marriage is a lovely idea, but it will be hell unless you go in with eyes open. Live by yourself for a while. A long while. It's amazing, keeping your own hours, your own choice of company. Having the power to kick someone out or invite them in. Yes, it requires a job and doing your own housework, but it's worth it. And if you come to the conclusion that you'd like to marry, for the love of God, live with the person first. Don't quote the Bible at me right now, I'm talking pragmatism. You'll want to know how they spend money, yes? Whether they're really reliable all the time? Whether they chew like cows over their morning cereal or melt out of their clothes like snowmen between the door and the bedroom when they come home from work? You want to know whether they can keep a job, yes? You want to know whether your libidos match? Yes, I see your face, but I'm telling you, it matters. Not enough to be a sole reason to hop into a legally binding arrangement, mind. There is a difference between wanting to have sex with someone and wanting to pay a mortgage with them. The former does not require the latter. Look, do you want to be tied to a person before you discover she leaves hair murals on your pristine shower walls? How will you know without living with her?! Who is this person and can you love the things that would drive someone else mad? People are beautiful and disgusting, and these are things you've got to know. Tell your parents whatever you like; they don't have to deal with the fallout of your poorly thought out ideas, or shouldn't. You do. Do not let a dogma railroad your life."
Usually this was done out of the parent's earshot, but on at least one occasion, I had a mother beside me nodding sagely at her kinder and agreeing. On every occasion, I had kids between 13 and 17 gaping at me as if live squirrels were falling from my mouth instead of words. Then they'd go grab their friends and drag them up to me, crying, "Give 'em The Talk!" and we'd do it all again.
"I understand what you're saying," my young brother-in-law said through laughter when it was his turn to hear The Talk, "but...where did you get the hair murals?!"
I laughed with him. "Gryph, you've crashed with us. Have you never noticed the shower?"
"Well, yeah, but..."
"I do it to keep the stuff out of the drain, but sometimes I forget to chuck it afterward. Drives your brother nuts."
My divorce only surprised folk who hadn't been paying attention. ~shrug~ Live and learn.
Which brings us to tonight and the title of the post.
I hear Mark's voice from the head--"I love you, too, baby!"--and I know he's found it. He teases me about the hair murals, but mostly he ignores them. So every now and then, I shape one into a heart. A heart he leaves up for days, not because he can't be arsed to pull it down, but because he knows it for the strange affection it is. Eventually, I get tired of it, pull it down, and chuck it. It works out.
<3
"Seriously, darling. Marriage is a lovely idea, but it will be hell unless you go in with eyes open. Live by yourself for a while. A long while. It's amazing, keeping your own hours, your own choice of company. Having the power to kick someone out or invite them in. Yes, it requires a job and doing your own housework, but it's worth it. And if you come to the conclusion that you'd like to marry, for the love of God, live with the person first. Don't quote the Bible at me right now, I'm talking pragmatism. You'll want to know how they spend money, yes? Whether they're really reliable all the time? Whether they chew like cows over their morning cereal or melt out of their clothes like snowmen between the door and the bedroom when they come home from work? You want to know whether they can keep a job, yes? You want to know whether your libidos match? Yes, I see your face, but I'm telling you, it matters. Not enough to be a sole reason to hop into a legally binding arrangement, mind. There is a difference between wanting to have sex with someone and wanting to pay a mortgage with them. The former does not require the latter. Look, do you want to be tied to a person before you discover she leaves hair murals on your pristine shower walls? How will you know without living with her?! Who is this person and can you love the things that would drive someone else mad? People are beautiful and disgusting, and these are things you've got to know. Tell your parents whatever you like; they don't have to deal with the fallout of your poorly thought out ideas, or shouldn't. You do. Do not let a dogma railroad your life."
Usually this was done out of the parent's earshot, but on at least one occasion, I had a mother beside me nodding sagely at her kinder and agreeing. On every occasion, I had kids between 13 and 17 gaping at me as if live squirrels were falling from my mouth instead of words. Then they'd go grab their friends and drag them up to me, crying, "Give 'em The Talk!" and we'd do it all again.
"I understand what you're saying," my young brother-in-law said through laughter when it was his turn to hear The Talk, "but...where did you get the hair murals?!"
I laughed with him. "Gryph, you've crashed with us. Have you never noticed the shower?"
"Well, yeah, but..."
"I do it to keep the stuff out of the drain, but sometimes I forget to chuck it afterward. Drives your brother nuts."
My divorce only surprised folk who hadn't been paying attention. ~shrug~ Live and learn.
Which brings us to tonight and the title of the post.
I hear Mark's voice from the head--"I love you, too, baby!"--and I know he's found it. He teases me about the hair murals, but mostly he ignores them. So every now and then, I shape one into a heart. A heart he leaves up for days, not because he can't be arsed to pull it down, but because he knows it for the strange affection it is. Eventually, I get tired of it, pull it down, and chuck it. It works out.
<3