New Year, New Beginnings

I like to think of January as clean up time. It's a new year. You pack up Christmas and I find it's a good opportunity to do some extra clean up. Christmas presents come in so that usually means making room for new stuff and getting rid of old stuff.

Which brings me to my husband.

No, I don't mean it that way. But even I am chuckling here reading that sentence. No, I'm not chuckling, I'm actually laughing my ass off.

I love my husband dearly. We've been together 26 years and married 20 years. I still believe our biggest accomplishment (besides my 2 sons for which I take most of the credit - you moms know what I mean) is that we still actually LIKE each other. I will love him always. He is the father of my sons but I would actually choose to spend time with him most days of the week.

My husband is a good looking man. It was his eyes that drew me to him in the first place. They are beautiful, green and framed with long lashes. Maybelline has no stake in him. Jamie has admittedly struggled with his weight over the last 20 years of marriage, certainly not due to my cooking. I am a good cook but my culinary skills will not be the reason my husband and children loved me. Nor will the number of dinners I served be stamped on my tombstone. My husband adores me because he was and is a handful and I love him. My children know that I am possibly one of the coolest moms on the planet. Not too many moms would stay for SIX overtimes at an NCAA basketball game until 1:30 am and get home at 3 am. That's the kind of mom I am. I digress. Back to the topic at hand.

I did not marry my husband for his looks but it certainly didn't hurt. When I married Jamie, an acquaintance once said she's marrying a fat guy, that leaves the good looking ones for the rest of us. I think she would take those words back. She said them when she was young and foolish and judgmental. I know she would not say that today. She would admire him for the amazing husband and father that he has grown up to be (yes, I know it's a dangling participle but it is after midnight. Forgive me).

Jamie has been enjoying food for the last year or so, hence the application of weight. It recently got to the point that there were sounds coming out of his body that very closely resembled a garbage truck. It honestly did not surprise me as I observed him at dinner the night before wherein he shoveled food into his body as though it was his last meal. A death row inmate had nothing on him. Just before New Year's Eve, I told him the party was over. It was time. Come January 3, he could no longer treat his body in such a malevolent manner. He agreed. I think. He came home from work the next day with band-aids on his fingers from injuries sustained from putting on his pants. I kid you not. 'Nuff said. He's bought into the treat your body sort of like it's a temple.

New Year. New Beginnings.

Next time remind me to tell you about the conversation I had with Joseph tonight about cotton boxers and why they are good for your testicles.

I so crack myself up.