Monday, October 20, 2008
Till Death Do Us Part
I think it's about time I blogged a little bit about my husband. (Oh, he's just going to love this.)
Blaker is potentially the most awesome dude on the planet. Maybe even in the solar system. Times infinity. Times a billion. Plus ten. He's my favorite. Which is why I am about to combine *him* with another one of my favorite things in the entire world (nope, not alcohol or chocolate). List making.
Behold: THE SLIGHTLY UNUSUAL BUT CURIOUSLY INTRIGUING LIST OF REASONS WHY I ADORE AND REVERE MY HUSBAND
(I love giving my lists pretentious titles. My last grocery list was entitled "A Random Assortment of Foodstuffs I Need to Procure From the Market." No, not really. That would be funny though, wouldn't it?)
1. I once saw Blaker kill a snake with a bar stool. Since I hate nothing more than a snake, I found it very comforting to know that Blaker could probably rescue me from a serpent in any situation. Like ones involving bar stools.
2. As soon as the doctor hacked me open and pulled Sutt out of my womb and handed him to the NICU to check out (he was a month early), Blaker scooted his chair from the position near my head down to where he could see what was going on, and demanded the doctor tie my tubes in front of him (we were taking NO chances that she might forget or get distracted and only do one...you know, whatever). None of that trying to talk me into more babies stuff that the husbands of some of my friends have pulled. Likewise, if I ever become pregnant again and subsequently throw myself off of a bridge, he will mourn my loss, but totally understand.
3. Last year, Blaker allowed me to drag him in the pouring rain to a synagogue in D.C. for a book reading by one of my favorite authors ON OUR WEDDING ANNIVERSARY and never complained once, despite the fact that he was one of only a few guys in a room full of man-bashing, hardcore feminist Jewesses. (I was not one of them--feminists or Jewesses.)
4. He has his pilot's license. So if I ever decide to take up wing-walking or want to join the Mile High Club, I have an inside connection. Oh, and it's sexy. (For the record, my Dad and my Father-in-Law both also have their pilot's licenses, but I do not want to join the Mile High Club with either of them nearby.)
5. Blaker has been known to call me from work, hear that I'm having a bad day, and encourage me to start drinking right away. Before 10am. And I rarely get out of the shower and don't find a glass of wine sitting on the countertop waiting for me. He loves me sober and crazy, he loves me boozed-up and crazy. Guess he has a penchance for crazy.
6. Once as a Christmas gift, Blaker bought a book I wanted, then tracked down the author and persuaded her to let him ship her the book so she could sign it, then send it back for him to wrap up for me. She probably thought he was a stalker, but she agreed. Now every time I see the book at the library, I do a little mental dance because I know that I have that book at home but it's all signed and personalized and not a silly generic library-like copy.
7. Blaker puts up with my family, despite the fact that they are all completely nutso and soooo not afraid to show it. The first time he met my favorite Aunt, she asked him (in all seriousness) why he had such a bad perm. (Blaker has very naturally curly hair.) When we announced to my family that we were expecting a baby, half the family wanted to know who the father was because they were all under the impression that Blaker was gay (we still don't know why they thought that). My Dad has been known to gift Blaker with jump boots, an authentic reproduction World War II trench coat, and, I believe, a gas mask. (If he hasn't actually given Blaker the mask, I know he has picked one up for him to go with the ones he has for the rest of the family in the fallout shelter. Yeah.....I'm not joking this time.)
8. He can roll sushi, makes amazing Thai Peanut Shrimp, fantastic stir-fry, and kick-ass enchiladas. And enjoys doing it.
9. Blaker taught MimiPants (my porky Yorkie) how to sit. I had been trying to teach her for two years, and it only took him, like, two months or so. (Disclaimer: there is nothing wrong with my dog-teaching skills. I have known of inanimate objects more intelligent and less stubborn than Mimi. Blaker just has some mad Dog Whispering skills or something.)
10. Although he may not always agree, he rarely tries to sway my beliefs towards something closer to his (i.e. stickers on produce are germ hubs, there is nothing trashier than a girl who plays pool, math should never be done without a calculator, corn dogs and frosting should each have their own important place on the food pyramid, etc.)
This weekend we are going away for our wedding anniversary, sans kids, during which I am sure I will be reminded of many other fabulous things about my husband. Expect an update when we return.