In the Soup

I'm going to preface this by saying that I have brutally honest friends. I love that.  They are not afraid to save me from myself.  One of these friends called me and told me that Michael just sounded a little too perfect. And it was kind of annoying. 

Oh my dears, I assure you he is far from perfect.  And I am even further from perfect (as you've probably gathered from this blog). 

He may have emptied my urine from countless bedpans, but his undershirts still find their way onto the floor beside our bed, while the hamper sits about 10 paces away. He plays Tanagrams on his cell phone while we're laying in bed at night. Or boggle, or any other number of word games.  He likes to pretend he is some sort of sniper or something and shoot things with the X Box.  He leaves half full cans of pop all around the house.  One of his feet looks like it crawled out of the Black Lagoon, yet the other one is perfectly normal. He jerks so hard when he is falling asleep that I jump 3 feet clean off the bed.  He leaves dishes to "soak"...yeah, like he was actually going to go back and wash it.

I always forget to empty the dryer lint trap.  This is gross, but I don't flush the toilet when I pee in the night because it is too loud and it wakes me up.  I forget almost everything he asks me to do...5 minutes after he asks (he knows and expects this now).  I can be moody and pissy.  I almost never cook.  True story.  When I do cook, I ruin it.  It annoys Michael to NO end that I stop so close the car in front of me at stop lights. 

We got an engagement picture set in one of those frames where you can write on the matting around the photo; everyone wrote something at our wedding (we had a very small wedding).  This photo is hanging in our bedroom.



There is one thing that I absolutely love about it.  Michael's grandfather wrote:

"You're in the soup, so make the best of it."



I love this.  I try and think of it everyday; I remember that no marriage is perfect, no spouse is perfect.  No one is perfect.

Keeping this in mind; our days are filled with laughter (for the most part) and hugs and the good stuff.  We are making the best of it.

And when I tried to enroll Michael in a toenail fungus medication study at the hospital I work at...he just smiled and went with it.  Sometimes it is very hard, but you just have to smile and go with it.