This Saturday represents twenty-eight years of marriage to a woman God chose for me. She is the only person in this world who understands me and can live with my good and bad times. I hear other couples mention many fights they have with their spouse, and we look at each other wondering why. We only had three fights in all our years married with the first happening before we made our vows.
Through the years we annoyed each other regularly and even changed to find new ways to aggravate each other. Yet, somehow, we managed to love each other despite our faults. Our first date came on July First and in September we became engaged. University caused us to wait until spring break to marry. It seemed like we fit each other. We matched in all the right ways. Where our personalities clashed, it didn’t seem to matter.
My best guess, she is my best friend in my life outside of Jesus. I don’t know how many years we have together, but I do know I will cherish every moment with her. She is my confidant, lover, friend, and partner in life.
Did I mention my dog is a Karen? The northern Ohio weather took a drastic change this week from snow and blustery to sunshine and spring-like temperatures. Of course, this means Ginger wants out dozens of times during the day as opposed to the half a dozen during inclement weather. Additionally, her time spent outside goes from the bare minimum to do her job to a multitude of minutes including sunbathing like a teenager at the beach. She lets out a quick “Arf” when it is time to come in repeating the cycle every half hour.
As Wednesday saw near seventy degrees with wisps of white fluffy clouds floating by, she spent most of the day going in and out giving me extra exercise on the day. As evening settled after dinner, she wanted out again as I washed the dishes. Counter half clean when I hear the “Arf” wanting to reenter the house. Dry my hands, make the trip to her door, and she stared at me as if to say with the most Karen expression, “What do you want? Nobody called for you.”
“Are you coming in or not?” tersely replied back.
After another long stare from our resident Karen, I close the door and start for the kitchen. Upon reaching the top step, the sound of her door being kicked resonates throughout the house. A ten-second march back to her door and she entered with a true Karen groan and moan over me taking my sweet time letting her in.
Learn more about me at my website: www.dannymacauthor.com