Marriage After 12 Years - F*&%#@g Hot!!

I know that after over a decade of marriage I’m supposed to complain about my husband’s gut or unwillingness to take out the trash or his flatulence.  But let’s be honest- he’s hotter than ever with no gut to speak of, he is ever-willing to take out the trash or do his share, and we both know that I’m the gassy one in the family. 

Yes, we’re often exhausted and have long since given up the pretense of trying to appear (near) perfect in the other’s presence.  But we’re also now able to appreciate and enjoy one another without requiring anything even gazing from afar at such fabled ridiculousness as “perfection.”

For Mother’s Day, my husband isn’t forcing me into co-wrangling children while at a brunch we can’t afford.  He knows a bloody Mary at home will do me just fine.  He’s not buying me a facial or some other such treatment that I have to endure and pretend feels wonderful instead of what it really is, which is creepy.  Seriously, I don’t want people I know touching my face, and I really don’t want strangers touching my face.  And, my husband resisted the temptation to buy me an unaffordable gadget that he wants and will then steal from me slowly over the coming weeks. 

Nope, my husband avoided all of those pitfalls.

A late night kitchen conversation a few weeks ago turned into “If You Could Have Anything, What Would It Be?”  My answer, which was lame but honest: “Time.”  So, he listened.  Shocking, I know, but he’s a real man and he listened.  He then secretly plotted to arrange a friend’s cabin for me.  Not for us, but for me.  I get three days and nights by myself.  It’s the time I always wanted.  While I’m gone, he’ll play Mister Mom. 

Marriage after 12 years is wonderful.  Not just because he does things like this, or because he pretends that psoriasis and nail fungus give me “character.”  And of course, not just because he’s hot.  It’s because of the love we share, built on trust and respect.  Wait.  No.   I’m pretty sure it’s because he’s hot.