Am I the only one who wonders if Beaver’s parents wanted to kill each other? Or If Ozzy and Harriet needed marriage counseling?
And I’m pretty sure I saw Carol Brady throw something at Mike Brady once.
Marriage can be a stinker. It was hard enough having to share a room and a bathroom with my siblings when I didn’t have a choice, but now as adult it turns out I have to share with another adult who’s just as set in his ways and I am in mine.
And half the time I can’t even eat my favorite foods because the man who shares my bed hates macaroni and cheese and Shepard’s pie.
Truthfully I’m no expert on the subject of love or marriage. Matter of fact, I’ve only been married since 1995, but I have made a few interesting discoveries along the way to prove to me over and over again I married the right person and that it must be love.
Because if it isn’t, then some strange man has some how snookered me into folding his underwear for almost two decades.
True love is not only sharing a toilet, but leaving the bathroom door open and having a conversation while the other one takes a shower.
It’s having separate tubes of tooth paste so you can roll from the bottom while they squeeze from the middle. It’s having gas cramps, running noses and morning breath.
It’s seeing each other at your very worst. It’s him patting my head and saying, “There, there” while I’m giving birth, or holding my hair back when I have to throw up.
It’s me letting him live when he coughs in my face in the middle of the night, or only leaving him with a slight limp when he covers my head with our sheets so he can let me smell what he had for dinner.
It’s no make-up, swollen eyes and bed head.
True love is having enough respect for each other not to say “you’re wrong” around other people, or calling them out in public.
It’s hammer toe, sinus infections and kidney stones.
It’s being honest even when it hurts and coming clean when I like to let sleeping dogs lie.
It’s saying yes when you want to say no. It’s letting them sleep in when I’ve only had four hours of sleep since the kids are calling for me and it’s saying I was wrong when every fiber in my body doesn’t want to.
True love is saying thank you, you’re forgiven and I’m sorry. It’s letting go of the past and not getting mad when they don’t notice your new haircut or outfit. It’s saving the last cookie for them or letting them serve themselves first.
But mostly true love is saying I love you when at that moment all you really want to do is smash their head with a frying pan.