If it's true what they say- that opposites attract, then Husband and I are one of the exceptions to that rule. We really aren't all that different from each other.
In the beginning as our long distance friendship budded into a long distance relationship, we spent hours nightly on the phone talking about our similar taste in music, movies, and people in general. We fancied all the same things. More importantly we fancied each other.
This was it. He was my person. I knew it very early on. He was funny! Better yet, he thought I was funny, which made for a pretty good time. We laughed a LOT. And as I mentioned *here*, when it comes to other people, there are very few characteristics I appreciate more than a ready wit. He was clever and kind and good, and for some reason he wanted me. On top of all of that, he turned out to be possibly my only equal in remembering and appreciating movie quotes. The larger point there, being that he seemed to GET me.
Oh, I loved him almost instantly.
Oh, I loved him almost instantly.
He made grand romantic gestures. He stood outside my bedroom window with a boombox on his shoulder, playing that song- our song. (Thank you John Cusack for the inspiration.)
After only one month of quickly growing closer despite the miles between us, he packed up his life and moved to Oregon, so we could be close in the geographical sense as well.
He pursued me. I liked this. Four months later we were engaged and six months after that we were married.
Fast forward 10 years and here we are, still in love and still laughing. And now there are two tinies in the mix, which means we are riding that rollercoaster of joy and triumph, heartache and fear, bafflement and wonder. Having children seems to open up chambers of the heart that one never even knew existed.
It requires quite a bit of give and take for a marriage to be successful, and in our ten years as Mister and Missus we have become rather familiar with this idea of compromise. In fact, we get along quite well. But throughout all the years, there seems to be one prevailing theme in our union.
Humorous Hubris.
We both think we are the "funny one" of the couple.
We can agree on where to live, how many children to have, where to eat, what movie to rent, -you name it. But when it comes to our perceived right to the title of "Funniest", neither one of us can seem to acquiesce.
Who cares, you might say? What's the big deal anyway? Can't we both be funny? The answer is yes, of course... just not EQUALLY funny. It completely messes with the natural balance of things! In a world full of chaos, shouldn't we be able to know exactly who we are, at least within our couplings?
I mostly jest, but in all truthfulness, Husband and I both staunchly believe we are slightly funnier than the other.
I often tease him that he's lost his edge. As a financial advisor and investment banker, he spends a good portion of his day sitting across from elderly folk who tend to be very serious when it comes to talk about their money. So it's not his fault, really. It's simply not an atmosphere conducive to an ironic sense of humor.
Don't get me wrong- he's a big hit with that crowd. They love him. Especially the older gals, who are always telling him what a clever darling he is. (Sorry ladies, he's taken.)
I suppose he could say the same of me- that I've lost my edge, considering my main audience are our 3 and 6 year old children who tend to find my satirical commentary throughout the day...underwhelming to say the least.
The good news is, it keeps us both on our toes. On some level we are still trying to impress each other. We are both people who love to laugh, and who can find the humor in almost any situation, but
I daresay the highest level of satisfaction comes from getting a real and spontaneous laugh out of the other. If I can make HIM laugh, and laugh hard, then that is (insert Andy Samberg's voice impersonating Nicholas Cage) "high praise".
I realize in writing this I risk making us both sound like a couple of big jerks, but I don't think we are? We may suffer from humorous hubris, or we may just be a good match. Either way, I like him and I'm keeping him.
After only one month of quickly growing closer despite the miles between us, he packed up his life and moved to Oregon, so we could be close in the geographical sense as well.
He pursued me. I liked this. Four months later we were engaged and six months after that we were married.
 |
| Clearly we are both amused by something here...although what, I can't be sure. |
Fast forward 10 years and here we are, still in love and still laughing. And now there are two tinies in the mix, which means we are riding that rollercoaster of joy and triumph, heartache and fear, bafflement and wonder. Having children seems to open up chambers of the heart that one never even knew existed.
Humorous Hubris.
We both think we are the "funny one" of the couple.
We can agree on where to live, how many children to have, where to eat, what movie to rent, -you name it. But when it comes to our perceived right to the title of "Funniest", neither one of us can seem to acquiesce.
Who cares, you might say? What's the big deal anyway? Can't we both be funny? The answer is yes, of course... just not EQUALLY funny. It completely messes with the natural balance of things! In a world full of chaos, shouldn't we be able to know exactly who we are, at least within our couplings?
I mostly jest, but in all truthfulness, Husband and I both staunchly believe we are slightly funnier than the other.
I often tease him that he's lost his edge. As a financial advisor and investment banker, he spends a good portion of his day sitting across from elderly folk who tend to be very serious when it comes to talk about their money. So it's not his fault, really. It's simply not an atmosphere conducive to an ironic sense of humor.
Don't get me wrong- he's a big hit with that crowd. They love him. Especially the older gals, who are always telling him what a clever darling he is. (Sorry ladies, he's taken.)
I suppose he could say the same of me- that I've lost my edge, considering my main audience are our 3 and 6 year old children who tend to find my satirical commentary throughout the day...underwhelming to say the least.
The good news is, it keeps us both on our toes. On some level we are still trying to impress each other. We are both people who love to laugh, and who can find the humor in almost any situation, but
I daresay the highest level of satisfaction comes from getting a real and spontaneous laugh out of the other. If I can make HIM laugh, and laugh hard, then that is (insert Andy Samberg's voice impersonating Nicholas Cage) "high praise".
I realize in writing this I risk making us both sound like a couple of big jerks, but I don't think we are? We may suffer from humorous hubris, or we may just be a good match. Either way, I like him and I'm keeping him.
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