Love Your Spouse - Day 2
I'm a terrible wife. I try to think of a week's worth of photos to share of my beloved husband, and all I can think of are the ones he'd really rather I not share.
Not like that. Pervs.
Like the time he had oral surgery and had his mouth stuffed full of gauze with devices sticking out of his mouth. Hey, he actually let me take the picture. It's his own fault. Or the historical artifacts like his high school yearbook photo, his Air Force portrait, his martial arts pic from the nineties.... wait, I already shared those.
There was that time he shaved off his beard and looked so unlike himself that I called him Dale (his middle name) until the beard grew back. If he tried to kiss me beardless, it was just weird. So I insisted, "I don't kiss Dale, I only kiss Jimmy."
As I've explained to him on multiple occasions, he was foolish enough to marry me. That meant a lifetime of torture. It's in the job description of "wife." If you don't think he's got stuff on me... Well. Never mind.
Since I am in a puckish mood, I think I shall share my "JimFear" collection. Somehow I seem to have acquired a number of pictures of my poor husband in a state of terror. We often joke that Jim lived under a giant rock until I met him, and I see it as part of my wifely duties to introduce him to new experiences.
This is Jim riding in my dad's boat. To be fair to Jim, my father learned to drive on the freeways of Los Angeles in the 1960s. He drives his boat in a commensurate fashion.
The Garden of the Gods is a glorious vista happily accessible by a very easy hike. There's nowhere else I know where you can see such incredible heights without climbing something very tall. This was not a chance I wanted to miss.
Unfortunately, I was not able to get him to parasail with me and the boy last summer when we went to visit my folks at the lake. It's too bad; the view was spectacular. On the flip side, he still owes me a hot-air balloon ride. A promise is a promise. I told him I'd let him out of it if he rode that rollercoaster at the top of the Stratosphere in Vegas.
Not like that. Pervs.
Like the time he had oral surgery and had his mouth stuffed full of gauze with devices sticking out of his mouth. Hey, he actually let me take the picture. It's his own fault. Or the historical artifacts like his high school yearbook photo, his Air Force portrait, his martial arts pic from the nineties.... wait, I already shared those.
There was that time he shaved off his beard and looked so unlike himself that I called him Dale (his middle name) until the beard grew back. If he tried to kiss me beardless, it was just weird. So I insisted, "I don't kiss Dale, I only kiss Jimmy."
As I've explained to him on multiple occasions, he was foolish enough to marry me. That meant a lifetime of torture. It's in the job description of "wife." If you don't think he's got stuff on me... Well. Never mind.
Since I am in a puckish mood, I think I shall share my "JimFear" collection. Somehow I seem to have acquired a number of pictures of my poor husband in a state of terror. We often joke that Jim lived under a giant rock until I met him, and I see it as part of my wifely duties to introduce him to new experiences.
This is Jim riding in my dad's boat. To be fair to Jim, my father learned to drive on the freeways of Los Angeles in the 1960s. He drives his boat in a commensurate fashion.
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| Eventually I got him to the front of the boat, as long as he could sit on the floor. |
This next one took place the day Jim proposed to me in the Magic Kingdom of Disney World. Now, if you follow us on Facebook, you know that Jim has a deathly fear of heights. Naturally, after he made me face my greatest fear (commitment), I made him face HIS.
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| I think he got off easy. |
The Garden of the Gods is a glorious vista happily accessible by a very easy hike. There's nowhere else I know where you can see such incredible heights without climbing something very tall. This was not a chance I wanted to miss.
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| He was very brave. |
Unfortunately, I was not able to get him to parasail with me and the boy last summer when we went to visit my folks at the lake. It's too bad; the view was spectacular. On the flip side, he still owes me a hot-air balloon ride. A promise is a promise. I told him I'd let him out of it if he rode that rollercoaster at the top of the Stratosphere in Vegas.
What.
Hey, we all have to face the things we're afraid of. This is the stuff that scares him. For some reason, this didn't.
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