My Crazy Love

Not too long ago, while I understand that multiple personality disorder is a serious disease, I would exasperate my husband, by accusing him of having just that malady.  It started as a result of a major injury to my foot, during which time I was in a steel boot, and pretty much immobile for several weeks.

I called him Josephine the Plumber when he unclogged the drain.  I referred to him as Martha Stewart when he set up the party for my daughter’s track team, for a pre-competition carbohydrate binge.  He became Emeril Lugasse when he actually did the cooking for that party.  He walked through the kitchen with a hammer in his hand, and suddenly transformed into Tim, the Toolman, Taylor.  He had some major gardening to do, and he went out there with a rake looking very much like Mr. Greenjeans, of Kaptain Kangaroo fame.

While he drives like Mario Andretti, opines like Bill O’Reilly, and has rituals like Sheldon Cooper, I never had to condemn him for channeling Frank Sinatra, Fred Astaire or LeBron James (although he would like to think so of the latter).

Sometimes I wish he would break out into to song.  I think he’s done it once.  And I would LOVE it if he didn’t make it seem like a chore to dance with me at an affair.  We share a lot of common interests, like sports and comedy.  I love him, whoever he is at the moment, and I have for a very long time.  In fact, we’ll be married 32 years in September (if I don’t kill him first)!


2 thoughts on “My Crazy Love

  1. I’d be okay with my wife saying I have multiple personality disorder if those (like the ones in your post) were the personalities she was referring to. I’m sure she would be fine with me displaying those personalities as well.
    Your husband is a talented guy.


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