Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Wrote a song about him. Wanna hear it? Here it goes.

Is it normal to be crazy about your husband? I'm not really a good judge of what is and what is not normal in a relationship, so that's why I'm asking.

The infamous Mr. Man has something special about him that makes my knees weak, my heart flutter and also occasionally causes a little nausea not unlike the feeling one might get after eating hard-boiled eggs...that you found hidden behind the sofa four months after Easter.

Don't get me wrong. My obsession with my husband took a little break for awhile. There was a time not so long ago when I seriously couldn't stand the sound of his breathing in and out. In my defense, he was going through what I like to call his "Linda Blair" phase whereby he spent several hours of the each day thinking of new ways to be evil.

One day we found a note taped to the front door that simply said, "Dude...chill out. You're scaring me. Respectfully yours, Lucifer aka: Prince of Darkness".

Little known fact: the devil has unusually feminine hand writing.

And then one day I woke up and for reasons I cannot explain, he was my sweet Pookie again. That's the day I fell back in crazy love with the man I married. That's also the day I stopped looking for 2 for 1 buys on rat poison.

Did you ever love someone so much that simply saying the words, "I love you" felt completely inadequate because what you feel deserves its own word with lots of letters and accent marks and maybe a few hieroglyphics as well? That's how it is with Mr. Man. I love him so awful that my love borders on illness. Even talking about it now, I am torn between hugging him until his head pops off or guzzling Pepto-Bismal.

I love him so terrible I want to write poetry about his eyes, write a song about his face and pay a mad scientist a wild sum of money to shrink him down to about an inch tall so that I could enclose him in a tiny little capsule which I would wear around my neck both night and day so that he could never leave me.

That's not weird, is it?

Copyright © 2004-2005, Sherri Bailey
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