Are you one of those wives who can sit down with your hubby and whisper sweet nothings while big red hearts shine in your eyes?
I’m not. I’m probably the most unromantic, un-mushy wife there ever was.
I love my husband and all, but I just don’t have that gene, I guess. You know the one that allows you to say things like “Oh honey, you are so strong! Thank you for opening that jar of pickles for me using your massive biceps!” or “Oh sweetie, thank you for washing my car! You’re so thoughtful and you looked so handsome while washing it!”
I don’t like mushy cards. At all. I much prefer humor. My husband is about the exact opposite. He is a very mushy guy. Without fail, for every occasion, I will get the sweetest, most sentimental card available to him to purchase. And without fail, from me, he will get the most hilarious card that I can find.
I apologize to him a lot for my un-mushiness. I want to be, but I just can’t. I try to imagine myself saying things like “Dearest, you are so wonderful. I just love you so much and am so glad that we are going to spend the rest of our lives together in wedded bliss.” and I start laughing! That’s terrible, right?
However, he knows I’m like this. He’s known it from the very beginning. He knows that if I say “Hey! Thanks for washing my car, it looks awesome!” that it really is just my way of saying “Oh darling! You’ve washed my automobile and I am forever grateful!” Ha.
He also knows that if he really wants to impress me, he should always opt for something like a game of ping pong or board games or Horse over at the basketball courts over perfume or jewelry or taking me out to a fancy restaurant. Maybe I will never grow up and want all of those mature scenarios for our marriage…I don’t know, but I kind of hope that I never get to the point of preferring some material thing over having fun.
And to his credit, he still loves me and continues to tell me so every day, even though I’ve never been good at the mushy stuff. He’ll always buy me those mushy cards and write mushy things inside them. And I’ll keep buying him funny cards and writing jokes inside of them and the cycle will continue until we die, I guess. But that’s our thing.
I once forgot to get him a card. I was busy with the girls all day and had been to the vet with one of the dogs. Long story short, I just forgot all about getting him a card. I ended up running up to the Dollar Store at the last minute and of course, they had nothing even remotely funny. I ended up buying him a serious card. And it was awful. I think it had like a mallard and a pond on the front. I don’t even remember what it said on the inside, but it was not anywhere close to anything I would ever buy for him. I remember that he looked at it. Then he looked at me. Then he looked at it again. (I think he honestly thought it was some sort of joke and that the card was going to explode in his hands or something.) And he never said a word to me about the card, although I know that he had figured out that I’d bought it at the last minute. He thanked me and kissed me and told me he loved it, just like he would have if it had been one of my usual cards.
That is a good memory. Thank you, honey, for being so sweet when I didn’t really deserve it.
And that’s about as mushy as I get people! Good day!