Beware - TMI

Tonight my very kind and generous father-in-law paid me some very kind and generous compliments on my blog over a dinner he kindly and generously paid for.  So I thought I could show appreciation for this by writing a blog on some of the reasons why I love and adore his son:



1)  He always sprays down the shower with Clean Shower.  I hear other wives talk about how their husbands are slobs or how they leave their dirty socks all over the place.  I was lucky enough to marry a man who was raised to be "mostly" neat.  No, he doesn't leave his dirty socks all over the place.  He does, however, leave the bathroom mirror open (Grrrrr!) but after all these years, I think he just does it to provoke me.  He always claims he isn't "done yet."   Bull crap.  He's done and left the room.  Sometimes he just likes to poke me with a sharp stick for no reason.  But he does indeed spray down the shower every day . . . or at least mostly every day.  He even refills the spray bottle when it's empty.  Well, as long as I leave the refill bottle close by, that is.


2)  He always, ALWAYS, makes sure my gas tank is full.  Lane is a bit of a Gas Nazi.  I can't hardly think of a time in the 21 years we've been married that my gas tank has been below half.  I am also pretty sure that I haven't pumped gas in that amount of time.  He usually fills it when we're out and about on Saturday mornings, but he will make a special trip to fill it up if needed.  I think there's a small chance that he makes the special trips when he really needs to get some sort of treat, but whatever the reason, I always . . . umm . . . have gas.


3)  He lets me spoon.  Due to Lane working the night shift for 15+ years we don't get to sleep in the same bed very often.  And when we do it's a bit of a battle, I'm not gonna lie.  We've both become accustomed to having the entire bed to ourselves, and we both think that "my side" is smack in the middle.  Lane also has a no-touching policy when he goes to sleep.  But if I tell him I want to spoon, he lets me.  And me getting into proper spoon position can be quite a painful experience for him.  My head fits perfectly in a certain spot on his shoulder and sometimes it takes more than one attempt to settle in.  I may jab my shoulder into his armpit a few times.  But he lets me do it.  He only says "ouch!" the first time.  And he lets me spoon for as long as I want instead of saying, "ok, that's enough, get off."  That's love.


4)  He keeps his eye-rolling to himself.  Antagonizing Lane is one of favorite hobbies.  I don't ask him, "Do these pants make me look fat?" (because not only is that cliche, I don't own any magic pants that wouldn't make me look fat.)  No, it's much more fun to go with the utter ridiculous.  For instance, if he says, "Let's go for a walk," my response is "Are you saying I'm fat?"  If he says "I like the way your hair looks today, " my resonse is "Are you saying I'm fat?"  And if he says "What's for dinner?"  again, the only logical answer is "Are you saying I'm fat?"  It's  a fun little game.  Well, for me it is.  He has learned to play along. One of these days he's going to say, "Yes, Lari.  I do think you are fat."  And I will totally deserve it.  But more importantly, when I delcare (pretty much weekly) that I hate all my clothes and I'm going to buy all new ones, he says "ok," and opens his wallet.  I've never really bought all new clothes, but I love that he's willing to let me, no questions asked.


5) He makes me laugh.  Once upon a time I told Lane he watched far too much baseball.  He told me he only watched the Dodger games, it wasn't so much baseball as I thought. Shortly thereafter I noticed him watching a game where neither team was the Dodgers.  So I questioned him on why he was watching a game that wasn't the Dodgers.  His answer was the longest, most drawn-out, most ridiculous thing ever.  It was an explanation of how one of the players in the game was tied into the Dodgers.  It was hilariously awesome.  So all these years later when I catch him watching a baseball game that isn't the Dodgers, he still gives me a wholy unrealistic explanation because he knows I expect it.  Also once we heard a Bill Engvall routine and it involved how women do all the household work and men do none.  In the bit, the husband informed the wife, who was repaving the driveway, that the wife didn't need to worry about emptying the ashray in the den because he "done took care of it."  To this day, Lane frequently informs me that he has "emptied an ashtray" when he has done something housework-wise that doesn't normally fall into his list responsibilities.  I love that he remembers the little things (the comedy moment, not the household chore) that have become part of our history.


When Lane came home from his mission, it was only a few hours before he annoyed his sister Michelle to the point where she asked, "When are you getting married and moving out?"  (I also remember Michelle asking me once while Lane was on his mission:  "How can you love him?  He's such a dork.")  So I'm glad that he granted Michelle's wish and didn't wait to long before marrying me.  I'm sure we've had ups and downs over the 21 years, but it's strange how I only really remember good times and special moments.  All the stupid moments about trivial things seem to slip away, or maybe their hard edges are softened by time and by all the other memories jumbling around together in our memories.  And as I look back I can't help but smile because he's made my life so happy.