Because I was feeling slightly guilty for complaining about Husband lately, here are 10 great things about him. Just when you thought he was a complete asshole...
1. He’s hot. Besides the cankles thing, I’ve always thought Husband was a hot piece of ass. He’s got a great smile, with these perfectly straight teeth, and dimples to boot. He’s got great hazel eyes that when I look into my Daughter’s eyes, I see. He the typical tall, dark and handsome that I had always dreamed about. He’s got broad shoulders, nice arms and a nice chest. He’s not too hairy, but just hairy enough so he doesn’t look like a 11-year-old boy.
2. He’s funny. One of the things I require in a mate is a sense of humor. He’s not slapstick funny, but more of a dry, sarcastic funny. He always finds a way to make me laugh and we find the same things funny. Being funny is a big turn on for me, so you could say his sense of humor also makes him sexy to me. When he tells me stories, he always find a way to make them funny. Like the one yesterday, about the guy at work who doesn’t wash his hands. Husband had me laughing so hard over his disgust and outrage when he confronted this man.
3. He makes a mean spaghetti sauce. He should. He’s Italian (technically, he’s Sicilian). That would be like me not being able to boil a hot dog (get it…? American food?) He’s American too, don’t get me wrong. But his grandparents came to the USA when they were young and only breeded with other Sicilians, so for some reason, I’m the “americanu” (pronounced a-min-na-ga-nu) and therefore, can be made fun of incessantly in his family because I like green bean casserole and corn on Thanksgiving*. No, Goddammit, we’re all Americans, I just have a genetic melting pot, whereas you’ve managed to stay genetically pure because your family is full of racists and bigots who look down on americanus. (just kidding. Maybe). And as a reminder, my Daughter is now ½ melting pot, and ½ Sicilian. The gene pool is diversifying, y’all.
4. He is the hardest worker out of anyone I know (except for his father). If you think you are a hard worker, he puts you to shame. You can bet the farm on that statement. He is never late to work, never takes a day off, and is very serious about his job. He puts his heart and soul into it and is consumed with doing it well. He’s received the “perfect attendance” award nearly every year he has worked. He has only called in sick two times since we’ve been married. He goes into work at least an hour early every day and stays late. He never takes a lunch. He goes into work on the weekends sometimes without getting paid. Compared to me, he’s a workaholic. I’m very lackadaisical concerning my work ethic, probably because I’m not happy with what I’m doing. For him, that’s not even an option. He doesn’t love his job, he just loves doing it well, and I wish I had some of that attitude to get me through the day.
5. He’s a “saver”. Husband saves money like people who survived the Great Depression save money. He always finds a way. I am thankful for his saving ways because there have been several times in our marriage where we would have been living in a cardboard box along Shit’s Creek if it wasn’t for him. He been buying savings bonds since we were married, for the children we had not yet had. He has opened retirement accounts for the both of us. He opened an education fund for Daughter when she was born to pay for college. He not only saves for today, he saves for tomorrow and I really appreciate that about him.
6. Family is important to him. I don’t know if it’s the Sicilian thing, or if it’s just because. But his family is very close-knit, they look out for each other and they enjoy spending time with one another. Which is the direct opposite of my family (God Bless ‘em). I appreciate the fact that I can give Daughter a opportunity to be in a close family who seems relatively “normal”. Granted, they’re not as normal as they look – I’ve realized that. But at least they seem that way and it takes years to peel the layers of that onion; but their “abnormal” isn’t "dysfunctional" like my family.
7. He taught me how to shoot a gun. Now, neither of us is a gun fanatic or anything but Husband does own two handguns. I’m terrified of guns (always have been). Husband knows this and to try and help me chisel away at my fear of guns, he has taken me to a gun range and shown me how to properly use one of the guns he owns. It’s a small .22, so it’s not a large caliber, but shooting it has made me slightly less terrified of it. I don’t even know why we have these guns anymore because ever since Daughter was born, we keep them locked up, unloaded, with the ammunition locked away somewhere separately (too many children have been accidentally killed because they found their parents guns). And it’s not like I’d be all guns-blazin’ if someone broke into my house. NO, I’d be trying to find the fucking key to unlock the cabinet they’re stored in, and probably get killed in the process.
8. He lets me buy his clothes and shoes. He has absolutely NO fashion sense, and thank god, whenever we have some family function or a wedding or something to go to, he lets me pick out his clothes and shoes. You can be assured he looks like a million bucks, too. I know how to properly match a shirt and tie to a suit.
9. He encourages me to improve myself and plays the role of protector. He has always provided encouragement to me when I’ve wanted to go back to school. And although I’m relatively confident he’s jealous that I completed law school (maybe “jealous” is too strong a word…he’s definitely “envious”), he still beamed with pride on Graduation Day. He also can be my knight in shining armor when he thinks someone has fucked with me or when I need a strong shoulder to cry on.
10. He acts a fool so much that I can make lists like this and this.
*Husband made fun of me one Thanksgiving because my family was serving corn. I told him that a traditional Thanksgiving dinner is supposed to emulate what the Pilgrims and the Indians ate…and HELLO? I’m pretty sure corn/maize was on the menu, considering it was the FALL HARVEST. I’m also pretty sure they did not eat Italian wedding soup, or ravioli, or sfinges, or breaded pork, or have biscotti or cannoli or cassada cake for dessert.