Oh l’Amour

643 Sylvia & Ugo

Our Wedding Day at the Jefferson Hotel in Washington D.C. Photo by Life Gallery Studio

love my husband to the moon and back.  But here’s the thing: I disagree with the way that he hangs the toilet paper so that the end is facing the wall, and whenever I ask him to pass me something, he absentmindedly leaves it juuust out of arm’s reach. His side of the bed and the inside of his Jeep look like I live with a hoarder (bills, notes, books, empty water bottles everywhere), and he is incapable of maintaining the organization that I keep trying to impose on his side of the closet.

Also, once he is done getting ready to go out, he will sit down in his outerwear, waiting “patiently” for me to finish.  Of course, this has the opposite, loathsome effect of rushing me (I HATE being rushed). Finally, once we reach our destination, he always seems to park the car farther away than necessary. Forget what I’m wearing and whether it’s adapted to walking more than six feet (probably not), I ask you: who doesn’t pick the spot closest to the door?

And that, folks, is where my grievances end. It turns out that, in my case at least, opposites really do attract. My husband is the Yin to my Yang, the Oscar to my Felix, the Ricky to my Lucy, the Tarzan to my Jane.

The point is, in love as in life, be openminded, and keep it simple. If you are lucky, you have or will find a person who you can relate to and trust, who loves you just the way you are, who makes you laugh, who is there when you cry, and who is willing to overlook your flaws.

For the record, although I am otherwise #flawless, my ever loving husband cannot abide the manner in which I empty the dishwasher.  According to him, you start from the bottom.

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