But in a case like this, I hope I get away with it.
My Sainted Southern Mother has taken to worrying about the way my husband and I banter sarcastically. "You're too mean to each other!" she fusses, because she doesn't get why we insult each other, congratulate each other ("Good one!) and laugh.
"That's our love language," I assure her. Then I remind her that I have exactly the same sense of humor as the man she married 43 years ago, and it took me 35 years to find another human being with that same quick, self-deprecating wit who could dish it out and take it.
So she concedes. Needless to say, my Good Ol' Boy Daddy looooooves Mr. Sweetypants.
And who wouldn't?
For the better part of two decades, I dressed in black and cried to a particular Depeche Mode song. Then I found that somebody. So when we often disagree on issues, I thank my lucky stars that he hears me out -- though my views may be wrong, they may even be perverted -- and is not easily converted to my way of thinking.
At the end of it all, he understands me. Bless his heart.
Vive le Sweetypants! You don't look bad! xoxoxoxo
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THE LIGHT EPHEMERAL
1 day ago
5 comments:
Oh the joys of Steve. Thank God for Uncle Steve.
Please, I practically want to marry the both of you! If Iowa would roll with the bigamy thing now, we could totally make that happen, but that remains a mountain our love will have to climb.
Y'know, you smell ok sometimes.
Damn it I'm not funny or nice!
Steve is a product of Vic Plowman one of the greatest straight men ever. I once asked Vic, my dad, if the trousers I had just shortened were even...his reply.......Di, if you walk fast nobody will notice.
What a sweet ode to Mr. Sweetypants. Very happy that you two found each other. I knew he had to be out there somewhere. It's like you're custom made for each other.
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