My friends and I were standing around in a parking lot chatting. We were talking about relationships. I don't remember what exactly we were talking about but it some how led to one of my friends ask the other "didn't you end up with a boring white guy?" She said yes. She repeated the question to another friend. He said yes too. She in turn looked at me and said "What about you? Did you end up with a boring white guy?" I smiled, gums blaring, and said "yes." We laughed and she said "I ended up with a boring white guy too, because in the end they are the best."
It sounds almost negative to call my husband a "boring white guy." In reality we all know, or at least I know, that he isn't boring at all. What she was trying to say is after all the jerks, weirdos, druggies, abusers, heart breakers and what-were-you-thinking'ers we finally settled down with someone who is sweet, caring, hard-working and as my friend would say "...and has a car!" Yes my "boring" husband was exactly who God intended me to be with. God writes simple love stories and in the end there is nothing boring about that.
I realized today that David makes me a better person. It's harder when he's out of town to get the simplest things accomplished, like putting the dishes away. I know, I know we all do it. Every married woman I know talks about how nice it is to just let things go for a day or two, it's an odd "break" from the mundane every day check list. I'm certainly not the best at doing the dishes every day, but I try harder when my husband is coming home. Some days I do out of guilt because I don't want to piss him off... and that's really not the attitude I should take. Other days I do it because he worked really hard and deserves to come home to a cleared counter top. It's not just dishes... I'm having a hard time waking up and going to swim practice. I don't know why it's easier when he is snoring next to me, but it secretly motivates me to get up and go. He motivates me even though he doesn't know he's doing it. I am a better person when he is around. Next time I get irritated that he's being an "anal-bananal" and I have to go do something (cleaning, organizing, preparing for the end of the world) I'll have to remember that last statement.
There are times that I wish we would've had this magical, movie-like love story where something dramatic would happen to thicken the plot and he would have to come chasing after me to not move to NY or to not marry that other guy. And then I realize that life, as much as we like to compare it to movies, is not a chic flick. Our love story is simple... we met, we dated, we got engaged, our parents both approved, we got married. Boring, some might say. But it's our "boring" and I love it.
PS. I did manage to put the dishes away today.