I would like to bestow upon my long-suffering husband (the football widower) the title of Sir Stu the Magnanimous for putting up with the following from me for 18+ years:
- Mood swings the like to make one dizzy, if not frightened for one's life
- A deep love for the music of Gershwin, Rick Springfield, and Dolly Parton
- Maniacal devotion (see "hysteria") to the Dallas Cowboys
- Broadway shows, adored at a fever pitch (e.g., I still cry about Miss Saigon, I obsessed over Sir Lancelot at the Portland production of Camelot, and sang along to every song in Mamma Mia!)
StalkingKeeping current with Fountains of Wayne- Potential Second Husband lists
- Pictures of Potential Second Husbands ripped from magazines and posted on bulletin boards
- And glued into notebooks
- And slid into the clear-view sections of binders
- The "vague sense of dissatisfaction" that plagues Virgos - leading to changing purses, sheets, towels, and home decor each season
- An affinity for tote bags and baskets
- Having to load the dishwasher, arrange remotes in the drawer, sort laundry, and drive anywhere in particular ways
- My stink face when asked to share a dessert or move a quarter inch on the couch
- Requests (that possibly maybe sound rather like demands) to bring me: a blanket, a book, a drink, chocolate, popcorn, slippers at any given time
- Pleas to visit Disneyland every year & a half
Thank you, my gallant knight, for all of your efforts appease and/or ignore my craziness. You are more perfect than any of the imaginary boyfriends I've had.
Check out that accommodating, enduring look...It says, "Please, God, let me at least get a back rub out of this."
