Today's blog is being guest written by the husband in all those horrible stories you have been reading for the last 365 days. It was suggested to us that if Shivonne was going to write for a year I should have an opportunity to give my thoughts on our 1 year anniversary. Finally, my chance to settle some scores and let everyone know how the first year was from a man's perspective.
The answer is...pretty good actually, for me at least. I was suprised how easy things went and how smooth the adjustment period was. I had a good time, ate some good food, had some laughs...and other things, but I had to promise to keep this G rated. I have really enjoyed telling people who ask questions of me that "I'm married now and no longer authorized to make those kind of decisions. I'll have to send that to the boss." Older ladies seem to get a real kick out of it and I, honestly, never cared much for my ability to do that for myself anyway. I also enjoy how easily irritated she is. It's probably a character flaw on my part but it's so much fun.
My wife, on the other hand, seems to think she moved in with an ogre. I am honestly perplexed by this. Let me give a little background here to clarify why I think I'm fairly easy to live with. My father is Italian and was raised by an Italian woman from the old school. What this means is that he came up in a home where he, and all the other Italian males, did absolutely nothing. Laundry, cleaning, organizing...not a chance. My father can keep a straight face while asking my wife to make him a bowl of cereal. He is on a first name basis with every waitress in the tri-county area, his fear of cooking (even toast) is that great. This was my example. Shivonne believes, in her heart of hearts, that she lives with this beast.
I have my own room (which I keep clean...sorta), do my own laundry, feed myself most of the time, and clean up after myself (sorta). Sure I leave a dish or two sometimes, sure I don't always STERILIZE the stove after I cook something but give me a break. I shower in the basement with the spiders and vicious cats and use the tiny half bath downstairs so as not to dirty her bathroom (which her dad and I spent 5 weeks remodeling and I have showered in the new tub exactly twice). I'm the one who gets up early and stays up late to let the dogs out. I do all the yard work, gardening, mowing, cutting firewood... The list goes on and on but I believe I have made my point.
I have really enjoyed the first year of marriage but I'm thinking of ending it. Not because I'm not in love but because I would love to read her next blog about her first year with almost any other guy. I think listening to her whine about someone who, for instance, used her bathroom (because he is afraid of spiders) and expected her to do the laundry (because that's womens work). If the lord is just he would have terrible aim and a penchant for skidmarks. That would be hilarious....
P.S. Let me tell you about how she just barged in here to tell me twelve things. For the entire last year her blogging time was sacred. If I attempted to speak to her about anything, no matter how urgent, she would literally shout that she was blogging and order me from the room. How is that at all fair? It's fair because marriage is about compromise...on the part of the husband.
No comments:
Post a Comment