Call it a cliche. I don't care. There is just something to be said about Bad Boys. Something appealing. Something refreshing. Something so not predictable, practical, or punctual as me. And Nathan is a little bit Bad Boy. Complete with a skull tattoo across his left shoulder from his Navy days. Has been known to get slightly aggressive when consuming adult beverages. Teeters on the fine line between cocky and confident.
Bring it on!
In truth, Nathan is half a teaspoon Bad Boy. Just has a sprinkling. I feel it necessary to clarify in case my apparent wisdom insinuates that Bad Boys can be tamed. Not so much. Nathan is primarily good-natured, genuinely charming, and quick-witted. All that with an edge. The difference in Bad Boy and being sprinkled with Bad Boy is the difference between seductive and sexy. With one, you feel like you're probably being played. With the other, you feel alive. And Nathan makes me feel alive. At least three, maybe four times, a week.
So I guess this dash of Bad Boy drew me to him in some unconscious way. If opposites attract, it MUST be on "bad" behaviors. While it has improved in recent years, I'd best be qualified as a goody-two-shoes. In fifth, grade, if I got hit in dodgeball (and that was not uncommon) but no one saw, I still went to jail. In high school, I told on cheaters. At my graduation party from college, when I caught my eighteen-year-old sister trying to stash some beer, I told her to put it back. I'm sprinkled with a little Stick In The Mud.
I believe I am primarily good-natured, genuinely charming, and quick-witted. And organized, obsessed, and overwhelmed.
RELATED TANGENT: Please note all the "o's" in my life. It's odd. (There's another!) My last name is Omick now. And I'm moving to Oconomowoc. Five o's in that alone.
Anyhoo, at the risk of sounding like a suggestable, subordinate wife, I must admit that Nathan helps me feel calmer. Down from a nine to a six on the Weird Maggie Scale. Sometimes I think about that: what is so bad about relying on your husband to calm you down? In this day and age, all this pop culture mumbo jumbo barks about maintaining your individuality. Your identity. Your inner self. THROW UP! Half of couples get divorced in this country. My theory: maybe if couples focused on maintaining and nurturing their lives as a couple, more people would stay married. I truly think Nathan and I have a good balance. Let me outline it for you:
1.) There are things Nathan does without me, i.e ice fishing, poker with the boys.
2.) There are things I do without Nathan, i.e trips downtown Chicago to visit my college friends, go to Starbucks.
3.) There are things we do together, i.e. go to the movies, play Boggle -- don't knock it 'til you try it!
We openly discuss our marriage. So far, it appears the simple act of the acknowledgement of the marriage proves effective.
Enough of that. So, we've got a goody-two-shoes and a Bad Boy. Who loves to dance. What is this, "Footloose"? A tale for the ages. But our tale is way better. Highlights of our journey include a hand-knit sweater, a big old black woman, and Ray Charles. Not all at once.
Bring it on!
In truth, Nathan is half a teaspoon Bad Boy. Just has a sprinkling. I feel it necessary to clarify in case my apparent wisdom insinuates that Bad Boys can be tamed. Not so much. Nathan is primarily good-natured, genuinely charming, and quick-witted. All that with an edge. The difference in Bad Boy and being sprinkled with Bad Boy is the difference between seductive and sexy. With one, you feel like you're probably being played. With the other, you feel alive. And Nathan makes me feel alive. At least three, maybe four times, a week.
So I guess this dash of Bad Boy drew me to him in some unconscious way. If opposites attract, it MUST be on "bad" behaviors. While it has improved in recent years, I'd best be qualified as a goody-two-shoes. In fifth, grade, if I got hit in dodgeball (and that was not uncommon) but no one saw, I still went to jail. In high school, I told on cheaters. At my graduation party from college, when I caught my eighteen-year-old sister trying to stash some beer, I told her to put it back. I'm sprinkled with a little Stick In The Mud.
I believe I am primarily good-natured, genuinely charming, and quick-witted. And organized, obsessed, and overwhelmed.
RELATED TANGENT: Please note all the "o's" in my life. It's odd. (There's another!) My last name is Omick now. And I'm moving to Oconomowoc. Five o's in that alone.
Anyhoo, at the risk of sounding like a suggestable, subordinate wife, I must admit that Nathan helps me feel calmer. Down from a nine to a six on the Weird Maggie Scale. Sometimes I think about that: what is so bad about relying on your husband to calm you down? In this day and age, all this pop culture mumbo jumbo barks about maintaining your individuality. Your identity. Your inner self. THROW UP! Half of couples get divorced in this country. My theory: maybe if couples focused on maintaining and nurturing their lives as a couple, more people would stay married. I truly think Nathan and I have a good balance. Let me outline it for you:
1.) There are things Nathan does without me, i.e ice fishing, poker with the boys.
2.) There are things I do without Nathan, i.e trips downtown Chicago to visit my college friends, go to Starbucks.
3.) There are things we do together, i.e. go to the movies, play Boggle -- don't knock it 'til you try it!
We openly discuss our marriage. So far, it appears the simple act of the acknowledgement of the marriage proves effective.
Enough of that. So, we've got a goody-two-shoes and a Bad Boy. Who loves to dance. What is this, "Footloose"? A tale for the ages. But our tale is way better. Highlights of our journey include a hand-knit sweater, a big old black woman, and Ray Charles. Not all at once.
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