Alpha Hubby is always telling me how good I treat him.

I always reply, “Yeah, but I could do better.”

He always seems a bit confused and says, “Umm, no?”

But the truth of the matter is that with the loved ones in our lives, we can ALWAYS do better.  We can be more patient.  More understanding.  More giving.  More thoughtful.  More loving.  More like we were when we first fell in love with them.  More about them and less about ourselves.

I never feel I do enough for him because this guy is ALWAYS giving.   I have never been treated the way he treats me.   He really is good to me!  If every man on earth learned Alpha Hubby Tricks of The Trade, his ways, his sneakiness in fighting …

…we have our moments.  To those of you who think I only share the good in our marriage, that I’m not being honest about our relationship, I offer this sordid and sad tale.

I got upset awhile back because he interrupted me AGAIN and missed my point altogether.  Not that I’ve EVAH done that to him, nope.  Maybe only the first 3/4ths of our marriage.

I was running my mouth, “Oh my gosh, you are getting worse!”  Of course he was headed to bed and nothing better get in the way of his bedtime.  He gets a bit… shall we say touchy?  Whiney?  Gripey?  Mouthy?  Growly?  I never hear the end of it when he gets to bed late.  But my point was valid even though my timing was lousy.

He said, “Get over yourself.  You are such an onion girl!”

Hey, I know I have layers.  However, I would prefer to be called Parfait Girl.  Parfaits have much better layers.

He muttered on, oh so dramatically.  Mutter, mutter, mutter.

I said, “Oh, quit being such a Drama King.”

“Onion girl!”

“Drama King!!”

Oh yeah, we’re in a smack down now!!

Then, of course, in order to win, HE CHEATS.  He stomps over and says, “Kiss me!”

“NO NO,” I yell, “NO kissing.  I’m not kissing you.  Go away, there are no good-night kisses for you!”

Yes, we are a very mature couple.  Why do you ask?

He uses brute strength, grabbing my head trying to kiss me.  I keep my lips closed, keeping that kiss from happening.  I have standards, you know.  I can’t give him his way.  That would just be wrong.

“Stop it! NO NO NO! No kissing, no kissing!”

He just laughs that evil laugh.  Then, he wins.  Cheating, of course.  He licks me.  On the lips. Like a dog.

Ewwwww – I hate lip licking.  HATE being licked.  Blech.

I give up, especially since I’m wiping my lips on his shirt and laughing so hard, I can’t win.  I kiss him.

*Sigh*  I know.  It is minus-1 for the female team.

But for some reason, I can’t help but not really care.

There you have it.  He’s good to me.  I’m good to him.  This is the truth of our marriage – immature fighting and major mature making up!

Oh yeah baby, you are good to me!