Jason is wonderful

If you know me even a bit, you know that this heading is not really my style. In fact, Jason has coerced me to write an entry under that title, and being the "wonderful" wife and "good" sport that I am, here goes.

The truth is, I do love Jason. I've loved him for about 4 years now, fairly continually, and someday I will be saying that I've loved him for 54 years. And that's nice to know. What's not to love about Jason? He pretends to enjoy rubbing my feet, he tells me my singing voice is lovely, even if we both know he's lying, he brings me chips and dip when I'm feeling crampy, he says Nanny and Pa are "funny" when most people would call them "weird", he makes me laugh (he'll even embarrass himself to make me laugh), he has a great ass, and best of all, he puts up with me.

Everyone knows that I'm not easy to live with. I'm loud, demanding, self-centered, bossy, and basically the center of my own universe. Anyone one else must essentially agree to orbit around me. So when Jason got down on one knee and actually asked to spend his life with me, lots of people thought he must be joking. I was one of them. But no, he was serious, and we did end up getting married. So now the poor bastard is stuck with me. I make him hold my purse when I'm in a change-room at the mall. I make him watch Gilmore Girls, and like it. I serve him broccoli and cauliflower without any cheese sauce (Jan, I know you are feeling faint at the very thought). I wake him up at 3 am because I'm lonely, and expect him to sing me songs. He gets sucked into the life of an extrovert after 20 years of being a confirmed introvert. We go to the store in our pajamas, take long walks in the pouring rain, we sing our favourite songs at Pizza Hut, and browse the produce section of every grocery store we can find on a cloudy Saturday afternoon. And the amazing thing is, he's always right there, comfortable or not, holding my hand. It's sickening really, but he's just a nice person. And somehow, despite all the bitchiness that I can throw at him, he's in love with me. And yes, when pressed to admit it, I am in love with him.