Cardiogirl 19 percent body fat 100 percent fun


my husband, the first-born


Over the years of our marriage I have realized that my husband has brought more to the table than I have regarding customs and traditions. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I am a low-maintenance chick. Basically I need water and sunshine.

When we first met I thought the freezer compartment was best utilized to make and store ice cubes. I think I occasionally stashed a frozen dinner in there, but I did not have a microwave so I would have had to make the meal inside the oven. And who wants to wait 30 to 60 minutes to eat a Lean Cuisine? Not me. So that was the first idea he introduced me to. Initially it seemed weird to me to open the freezer and see it full of multi-colored boxes. Now I'm used to it.

He is also into paper products, big time. There are 5-ounce Dixie cups in the kitchen in his original plastic dispenser, the one he brought to the marriage nearly 13 years ago. Ditto on the plastic dispenser in the bathroom which houses the more petite 3-ounce Dixie cups.

Prior to our union I had no knowledge of Dixie cups. When I was growing up we had two bathrooms, The Pink Bathroom and The Blue Bathroom. Not surprisingly, one was pink and one was blue. The five girls used The Pink Bathroom and my only brother, mother and father used The Blue Bathroom. In our bathroom we had a faucet that had a drinking fountain. It was awesome. There was a small metal piece that you pushed to engage the fountain. When you were done, you simply pushed the piece back converting the fountain into a normal faucet. See, that's awesome, isn't it? That also meant after I brushed my teeth I simply rinsed my mouth in the drinking fountain. I didn't need a cup, much less a Dixie cup.

Hubby also uses paper towels. Liberally. In the early years of our marriage he was a brand-specific Bounty lover. Apparently he did believe it was the quicker-picker-upper. He was partial to the Charlie Brown prints that can be somewhat elusive. However, with the arrival of our first daughter and the discovery of Costco, he eventually converted to the solid white Kirkland brand of paper towels.

I've got to say, the paper towels have grown on me. I no longer debate when I should use a paper towel versus the kitchen wash cloth or dish towel. I now speak fluent paper towel.

Like the ant in Aesop's tale of The Grasshopper and The Ant, he plans for the future. He prefers to have a stock pile of goods such as paper towels, paper plates, Dixie cups, toilet paper, dishwashing liquid, coffee, etc. You know, all the stuff you buy in bulk at Costco. It must be from his days in food service back in college. He's also a good first-born. A responsible planner who thinks about the consequences before he acts. He's working on his spontaneous side, but for the most part he analyzes everything before he jumps in. I, on the other hand, go mostly on instinct. Let me illustrate with the following scenario.

Back when we were dating a song came on the radio that I liked, so I asked him to turn it up. We listened to the tune and when it was over he asked why I liked that song: was it the lyrics, was it the beat, the drums, the horns? What exactly was it about that particular song that caught my interest?

My response is intrinsically the difference between me and my husband. I just like it. Period. Don't know why, don't care. It's got a good beat and I can groove to it. He then asked, "You're a last-born, aren't you?"

Sadly enough, it was when he questioned me in detail that I first realized the lyrics actually tell a story. I know, that's embarrasing to admit. Don't judge me. I am who I am. Uncomplicated and fun.

At least that's what my husband says. When I gaze into his eyes, all mushy and lovey, and ask him, "Why did you marry me?" I always want him to give me some long diatribe about how the earth stopped rotating on its axis when we met and he couldn't live without my presence.

But what he always answers is, "Because you're fun."


2007-06-29 at 7:35 a.m.

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