I guess I'm lucky. I used to wince when I heard my honey say,
"Wow, look at that body."
It doesn't bother me anymore.I just smile tolerantly.It's even OK when he searches the Internet for items that fuel hisaddiction.It does bug me a little some Saturday mornings when he wakes earlyand goes out to give her a rubdown.I don't mind what he's doing. It's just that I'm trying to sleep.After three wonderful, blissful years of marriage - are youlistening, honey? - I have come to accept his weakness.I know it's me he loves.It's just that he also adores cars. He especially loves thatsporty model he shines and drives.He also keeps our other two cars in fine condition. He likeswashing them, waxing them and even cleaning out the interiors.That last point is the one that sometimes gets under my skin.I'm one of those people who finds it necessary to live out of hercar.I keep things in there I'll need throughout the week, from walkingshoes and workout clothes to notebooks and grocery store coupons.I cringe when Todd comes in the house and dumps all these items ina chair. With a cheery smile, he says, "I cleaned out your car.""No, not again," I wail. "Put that stuff back."Yeah, I know it could be worse.I did get a little worried the other day, though.I said, "Honey, if someone offered you an old mint conditionCamaro for me, what would you say?"He looked thoughtful and asked, "What model?"- Charlotte Ferrell Smith is a reporter for the Daily Mail.
No comments:
Post a Comment