Wednesday, May 30, 2012

The Funny One, aka Mr. Sunshine

It seems that after only a few short weeks of blogging, my secret is out. My husband is the funny one in this family, not me. He keeps me laughing every day, whether he intends to or not. When we were dating, a friend of the family warned me about "older men." I must be careful, she cautioned, because older men were more sophisticated and mature. They were looking for different things in a relationship than teenage boys.
Somehow, the wonderful man that is my husband missed the memo. Don't get me wrong. He is a hard-working, responsible person who does a fabulous job providing for our family. But mature and sophisticated? Not my first choice for adjectives used to describe my hubby. Cartoons, inappropriate jokes, fart humor, you name it. He makes me laugh until I cry almost every day. His ultimate goal is to make a drink come out of my nose, but it still eludes him. Keep trying, Babe.
The other day, a repairman in our home informed me that I could buy a new toilet (and no, not a Mr. Potato Potty) for what it was going to cost to fix the high priced one in my guest bathroom. It's not really broken, it just takes some effort to flush it. You have to push down hard on the handle, which my girls are not crazy about. Other than that, it works perfectly. Like all good husbands who don't want to deal with something, when the guy called him with the estimate, he said something along the lines of, "Whatever my wife wants to do. Just make her happy!" Sounds pretty sweet, huh? Yeah, right. I'm onto you, Buddy. Make me the bad guy.
I made the executive decision that we will limp along until the toilet breaks completely, because I have other things I would like to do with $100 than spend it on toilet parts. When Mr. Sunshine rolled in from work and asked what I had decided, I told him and here was his assessment: "Yep. Cheap toilets, cheap horses, and high priced women. That's how I roll!" How do you argue with that?
One of the most endearing things about Mr. Sunshine is the outfits he wears to the barn. I'm not sure which are my favorite, the summer or winter ones. I have to say, my personal favorite winter outfit was a pair of parachute (I mean, "athletic") pants, tall buckaroo boots, a goose down jacket, and a toboggan. Basically, he picks up what ever is on top of the dirty clothes pile to wear while he feeds the horses. Until we rented our guest apartment last summer, his go-to outfit was underwear and boots. I figured the renters' two tween daughters would be scarred for life if they busted him in his drawers, so we had to make some changes. Sacrifices, man, sacrifices.
A couple of mornings ago, he came into the house after feeding wearing a light blue scrub shirt, red Speedo, and boots. I'm totally kidding. It was a red pair of swim shorts, not a Speedo. But the mental image made you smile. I saw you. While a scrub shirt, swimsuit, and boots was not one of his most creative outfits, it was definitely interesting. I immediately said, "Have you been playing Baywatch again? You were running down the beach, I mean the pasture, weren't you? I knew I heard cars honking on the interstate." He immediately gave me a demonstration, which caused me to break into song. "I'll be ready..."
The other night I was running a bath when my mom brain kicked in and I remembered something I had forgotten to tell him about the barrel race. I headed into the kitchen half dressed and proceeded to tell my not particularly important story. Teenage boy, I mean husband, stared at my chest and pretended to listen.
Me: So what do you think? Isn't that stupid?
Husband (out loud): Focus, focus. I'm sorry what? Were you speaking?
Me: Yes, I have a head!
Husband: Not right now, you don't.
See what I'm dealing with?  

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