Lesson 19: Find Your Knight in Twinkling Armor

So, here you have it. Nineteen previous lessons I have learned in all my years with Nathan. I'm not claiming to be some kind of expert, sexpert, or otherpert. Just sharing. My experiences. My (hopefully) humor. My knowledge. I hope to look back on this years and years down the road and still find my Bad Boy hubbs as sexy as I do now. I hope my intuitive detective skills prove effective with my kids, especially if we have little punks like Nathan was in high school. I hope I can continue to live a little and have...more fun...in bathroom stalls. I hope and plan to ALWAYS wear thongs. I hope to get more diamonds, though be 100% surprised with real ones. I hope to always have a rodent exterminator available, sweat-shirtted or not, within minutes. I hope to breed more new and exciting fruits in the Omick Family...each kid a different kind. I hope the Packers win at least one more superbowl within our lifetime to see if the smile on Nathan's face is bigger than it was on our wedding day. (Okay, and to see him happy.) I hope (really hope) he loves me when I am fat, carrying around his offspring...and I know he will. I hope he will ALWAYS have the Lip Thing. Comes in handy. I hope I will always drive a truck. Yes, I really do. I hope our kids meet their significant others somewhere random, too, like a bowling alley. I do hope, however, that I never have to offer him any kind of quasi, pseudo, or halfsie ultimatum ever again -- but am ready to do so if necessary!

Of course, Nathan is by no means perfect. Can he be a jerk? Yep. Can he be a baby? You bet. Does he say he'll take out the garbage and not do it for four days? Would he be a man if he did otherwise? Did he buy a four hundred dollar canoe with my tax return four months after we got married even after we discussed it and I said I didn't want him to? Sure. (THAT, my friends, is a tale for another time.)

When I was a little girl, I pictured my husband carrying a briefcase (and coming home to me decked out in black lingerie for that matter). I didn't know I'd not only get a briefcase carrying kind of man, but also one with the cute quirkiness of Owen Wilson, the ruggedness of Bear Gryllis, and the charm and smarts of Barack Obama. For you see, as dim-witted as he -- and every man -- can be, he may not shine all the time, but he sure does twinkle. I think a man that shined all the time would get...too bright! Crud, you can't even LOOK at the sun for too long. It'll fry your eyes! The only thing I liked fried is my food. But do you see my point? Look for the twinkles in your man. He may not make dinner, but he rinses the dishes afterwards. He may not bring you flowers, but he tells you you're beautiful every single day. He may not like to buy gifts (and maybe just flat out won't at all for your 25th birthday OR graduation from graduate school), but when he does, he gets you diamonds. He may leave a little trash in your car/truck, but he always keeps the gas tank full. Find the good in him. Little flicks of light. And for those of you still looking for your knight in sweatshirt armor, don't even look for a shining one. Look for a twinkling one. Shiny things lose their luster. Twinkly things save their shine and share it sparingly so it lasts a lifetime. Keep looking, but you can't have mine. He's taken. And still twinkling.