Sheepdog and I have a great relationship. He is the yang to my yin. The out to my in. The pragmatic to my fly off the handle. We make a really good team.
We met when we were both twenty-years-old in college. We got married just one month after graduating. We were babies. We both say all the time that we are so fortunate that we still liked each other after we sobered up. True story.
It helps that we are on the same page about so many of the big things… finances, religion, politics, discipline, priorities, work ethic, what color to paint the house. Those things really matter when you are dealing with the day-to-day crap that can sometimes drive a couple apart.
But, like every other couple, we don’t always see eye to eye. Sometimes Sheepdog can be a dummy and he doesn’t see things my way, i.e. The Right Way. Our disagreements certainly aren’t marriage-ending or earth-shattering, but they are ongoing. For example, these are a few of our always-on-the-table points of contention:
- Tattoos. Him: Has two already. Negotiated for new tattoos every time I suggested we should have another kid. Another tat would be so freakin’ cool! Me: Hell no. I have a Sharpie. C’mere and let me give you another “tattoo,” mister. Oh, and wait until Kids B and/ or C (Kid A wouldn’t even think about it) come home with tramp stamps. Let’s hear how you feel about tattoos then.
- Guns. Him: Grew up in West Virginia, where they apparently issue “Baby’s First Shotgun” upon pre-school graduation. He is a proud, sticker-weilding member of the NRA. Me: Didn’t touch a gun until Sheepdog taught me to shoot empty beer cans with a 12-gauge, double-barreled shotgun in college (romantic?) and paper burglar targets with a Glock 19 a few years ago. I respect the gun, but will always be a little scared of it. I’d rather not even think about them, frankly. I always manage to forget the code to our gun safe.
- Camping. Him: Avid outdoorsman who would choose to live in a lean-to if I agreed. Loves everything about the outdoors, including wiping with leaves. Me: I only use Cottonnelle Ultra. I see no point in camping. Camping is for people who are not smart enough to know where to find a 5-star hotel.
- Girls in (Really) High Heels. Him: The higher, the better. All women should be required to wear high heels when greeting their man at the door after a long, hard day at work. And nothing else. Me: I wear flip-flops year round.
We have always called each other out on our B.S. If I can count on no one else (well, before we had children who couldn’t wait to tell me that my hair looked crazy or that I am wrong about the facts), then I could always count on Sheepdog to give me the hard truth, or at least his version of it.
Except for when he wants some. Then he knows he had better see things The Right Way. And maybe I’ll even put on some heels.
Wish me luck for tomorrow…