You know what I think is awesome? When I tell my husband why I am awesome. In exacting, painstaking detail. Because he sometimes forgets. And so I gently remind him that I COOK A LOT. That I WORK FROM HOME AND BRING IN MONEY. That I AM NOT A DRUG ADDICT. Also, that PEOPLE FIND ME STRANGELY CHARMING. And that I USED TO LOOK GOOD IN A MINISKIRT.
I also enjoy telling him that I AM A REAL CATCH. And boy, ARE YOU LUCKY OR WHAT? He especially likes it when I add sidenotes and descriptive prose, as in, “I AM AWESOME AND YOU LOVE ME SO MUCH.”
And then I add, when I embarrass him with my random, probing questions to strangers, and/or my overly long, said-too-much monologues to party guests: “BUT MY HONESTY IS VERY REFRESHING.”
So THEN he insists that really it’s not very becoming to be so HONEST, I reply with, “BUT I GOTTA BE ME! THE AWESOME, PREVIOUSLY-MINISKIRTED, NON-DRUG-ADDICTY GAL YOU MARRIED.”
Seriously, he loves that.
And if he doesn’t, I tell him to. IN ALL CAPS.
I am so awesome.
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