Just the day before, I stood up from the dinner table and disappeared into my office, leaving him and the kids to clean up. No real reason other than I was sick of washing dishes and dinner had interrupted me mid-chapter (I’m working on a new book about- you guessed it- being a military spouse.)
So Mike might be a jerk sometimes, but in his defense, so am I. I think we all are, at times. I don’t think there is a single husband or wife who can claim to be perfection exemplified. It was in reading my latest piece for Military Spouse that I realized that I don’t give him enough credit for also being married to a big jerk.
Yes- he defends our country, and that in and of itself is worthy of all my praise and admiration. But I don’t often give enough praise to the other things he does- like mopping the kitchen or putting the roof back on the Wrangler when I forget. Or texting me when I wake up on a random Saturday to let me know there is an iced caramel macchiato (with a quad shot) in the fridge for me. Or keeping the kids quiet and occupied when I have a video conference call.
The day my Confessions piece was published, I texted my husband.
Me: “Hey be forewarned, I wrote an article about a fight we had and, um, you might get some messages about it…also- remember that you love me.”
Him: “LOL. Long as you got paid for your time. I love you madly.”
He might be a jerk, but he’s my jerk. And he loves me. A-hole that I am.
