It is an absolutely spotless day outside, warm and sunny and everything else that can make you want to gnaw your hands off at the wrists when you’re stuck inside an office with a carpet that hasn’t been cleaned since carpet was invented. And when it’s your second wedding anniversary, and your husband is at home with the dog, cleaning the apartment and playing Mr. Mom, it makes everything kinds of double shitty.Which is why I ought to sing the praises of my darling German husband today. Two years of marriage isn’t that much in the grand scheme of things, but considering that our entire relationship has been going on for over five years now, I’m just waiting for Guinness to give me a call and congratulate me on winning in the category Brandi’s Longest Relationship Ever. I used to get kind of bored with guys after about a year or so. And then there was the one I stuck with for almost two years because he cried when I tried to break up with him for the first time. Lesson learned: Pity doesn’t make for an interesting relationship. Nor do Romanian mama’s boys, but that’s a different can of Varzar cu dragavei.
Anyway, either it’s Björn’s way of making me laugh every day or our mutual love for kitschy 1980s German television that keeps us together. Or both. What can I say? I love him, even when he refuses to wear pants around the house and even when he screams things like, “Dr. Globotron, it’s raining blood! We’re all going to die!” Yes, he does things like that (but in German) and they are never, ever related to anything that is currently happening in the real world. Björn has no problem with staying home with Baby S. after I go back to work next summer, has no problem cooking or cleaning or even putting the toilet seat down after peeing (I never had the heart to demand that he sit down to pee, like many women demand of their partners. I mean, if I could do it, I’d pee standing, too, so who the hell am I to play God?). We’re actually, really living out that kind progressive relationship that you read about in progressive magazines, and it doesn’t even feel as revolutionary as it sounds. It just feels normal.
Here’s to many, many more years!
2 comments:
But can he poop standing?!?!
Congrats on the deuce aniversary. I will commence my crappy comment......... now.
Pshaw...I wish he could poop standing. That alone would be a reason to marry him all over again. Ugh, but when you think about how pee can splatter here (you are, I take it, familar with the build of European toilets), think about what a poo would do. Or, better yet, what a poo poo would doo doo.
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