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Saturday, May 17, 2008

Mr. Wonderful

I get the sense that many of you feel the Husband is a clone of Mr. Right. He isn't perfect, of course, as none of us are, but he is pretty wonderful. He's patient, easy-going, hardworking, smart and ethical. He also loves God. He loves me. And he loves our little Tongginator.

Life doesn't get much better than that. And yet...

It grows pretty tiring after awhile being married to such a great guy. I mean, I AM aware that the majority of our couple friends chose us as friends because of him. You know what I'm talking about. Be honest. Every couple has at least one married friend pair that they privately describe as, "Oh, they're really wonderful. She's a little tough to take sometimes, if you know what I mean, but he is SUCH a great guy."

You know a couple like us, don't you? Admit it.

It also grows pretty tiring being married to Mr. Wonderful during family get-togethers ... not with HIS family, with MINE. They love him more than me. They seriously do. I think my daddy The Colonel loves him the most, however, because The Colonel continues to feel relieved that someone, anyone, is willing to accept financial responsibility for me put up with me. And Tonggu Grammy... oh goodness... if I ever even hint with the tone of my voice that all is not well with the Tongginator's parents, the first question she asks me always sounds something like, "What did you do?"


It doesn't help that Tonggu Grammy is usually right on target.

Still, I've received permission (from Mr. Wonderful himself) to highlight a few of the Husband's foibles.

Because he does have them.

In spades.

Plus, he's losing his hair.

Oh, you didn't hear me? Well, I would say it louder, but it's not something we talk about much.

Where was I? Oh, yes, foibles. The Husband is a serious pack rat. SERIOUS. PACK. RAT. I cannot stress this enough. When we dated, and the Husband moved from The Farmhouse to The City Condo, he actually relocated several boxes filled with trash.

TRASH, people.

Now do you understand why I can't park a car in our garage?

This hoarding tendency also spills over into other areas of our life. When the Husband becomes aware of a household need, he tends to shop overboard.

Definition of Shopping Overboard: To purchase five times the number required in order to reduce any and all levels of emotional anxiety.

Example: Underwear. The Husband owns over 35 acceptable pairs of them. (I refuse to count the ones that contain holes.) Why so many? Because maybe someday, in a parallel universe, Tonggu Momma might forget to do the laundry for ... I don't know ... a month? Now, I am well aware that some women own as many, if not more, undergarments, but they are FEMALE. The definition of female absolutely includes the phrase "likely to own many pairs of panties." The definition of male? Not so much. THAT definition more likely includes some variation of "tends to wear a pair of underwear until it disintegrates."

Moving on...

The Husband also enjoys eating Gross, Disgusting Foods and Strange Food Combinations. He loves Kippers, people.


And his favorite Bachelor Dinner? It involves the above-mentioned kippers as well as a plate filled to the brim with separate piles of salsa, tortilla chips, cottage cheese and pickles. Just imagine all of those juices running together, soaking into the tortilla chips. Can you picture it? Does it in any way sound appetizing to you?

Of course not!

Because. You. Are. Sane.

Moving on...

The Husband struggles with a Really Big Head, both literally and figuratively. I'm serious about the literal part, you know. And it influences more than you'd originally think. Like, I've never known someone who sneezes as loud as the Husband does. I often fear that his brain will someday end up across the room from his head, as the result of an overzealous sneeze. And I'm convinced his Super Sneezing occurs because he has a 23-and-a-half inch head size.

In the figurative sense, the Husband honestly needs someone to slap him down occasionally. I understand this. I truly do. I mean, if you go through life as Mr. Wonderful, it's kind of difficult to remain humble ALL of the time. The Husband is, for the most part, a humble guy, but there are times when he needs a swift kick in the pants.

Sometimes God does it.

And sometimes, on rare occassions, God allows me to help.

I love those times.

Because it really is hard to walk side-by-side holding hands with Mr. Wonderful. Oh, I admit, it sounds great at first. But then you slowly come to realize that everyone prefers his company to yours. And you realize that the vast majority of your marital strife occurs because of YOUR failings. It's humbling, people.

Really humbling.

And I can't even help myself feel better by making fun of him in the typical ways. Youthful indiscretions? He seriously doesn't have any. Lineage? The guy is a direct descendant of Martha Washington. Past idiotic comments? He is one who strictly adheres to the listen more, talk less philosophy.


I guess I just have to comfort myself with snarky remarks about his tendency to shop overboard and eat disgusting foods. I can even throw in a few eye rolls when reflecting on his Really Big Head. And that's about it.

Because, truly, in every sense of the word, he is my Mr. Wonderful.


Tonggu Momma Husband said...

aawww .... shucks honey .... you shouldn't have

oh ...

and if you've never tried kippers on crackers, then you have no room to complain. consider it part of my nordic family heritage.

and who doesn't like chips and salsa? and pickles ... and cottage cheese?

Aunt LoLo said...

Sorry, Tonggu Hubby...I'm with Mama on this one. If you're going to eat them together you should at LEAST keep the juices separate! I mean...salsa juice and pickle juice...all running down into your chips...crazy!

Oh, and Tonggu Mama...I SO wish you were closer...'cause I'd be your friend, and I promise I'd like you more than your hubby. ;-)I've been scared of guys in general since I got married...I guess it's my way of taking care of my tendency to flirt...with just about anything that wears pants. (I was famous in High school with my friends...but that's another story.)

Dawn said...

Just look at it this way, he's almost perfect and he picked you to be his wife so you must be pretty great, too.

My dad used to eat kippers all the time. When I was a kid I loved them, too. I would eat them on crackers as a snack and they were so good. I know I've tried them once since I've been an adult and they really grossed me out. It could have been because I was pregnant, though. Speaking of pregnancy, your husband's favorite bachelor dinner sounds like some weird craving a pregnant lady might have, except for the kippers, of course.

Tonggu Grammy said...

I have only 2 things to say: Tonggu husband is truly awesome BUT I love YOU more! OK, 3 things to say ---- he better not ever eat that disgusting meal when I'm around to see or smell it.

discombobulated said...

Collecting trash and eating kippers is kinda icky, but I still think he ranks in the top 90th percentile as far as husbands go. If I hadn't met him, I'd say you were making him up. I didn't notice anything exceptionally large about his head. If I stare next time you'll know why.

Gerbil said...

I am laughing because my husband's head is also of the very large variety, to the point that he cannot wear hats - they look like beanies.

and count yourself lucky on the kippers... it COULD be lutefisk.