The LBDDiaries.com Blog

(Pardon my redux, slightly updated.  I pulled out [and revamped] a post from 2010.)

Okay. I know I chat a bit about Alpha Hubby.  Oh, OK, I chat a LOT.  And yes, in case you haven’t noticed, I am absolutely one hundred percent head-over-heels, over-the-moon wild about him.   There’s a reason.

Let me digress a bit.  Long before I met Alpha Hubby, loooooong before (what took you so long to find me, baby??), I’d done some studying, learning, changing, realizing what was important, what wasn’t, observing, growing, and growing up. 

I also did a lot of listening.  I used to listen to the women at work talk about their husbands.  I used to listen to women at Ladies Group (Bible study) talk about their hubands.  I used to listen to friends, store clerks, and near strangers talk about their husbands.

And when I say that what these women were not saying, “Oh, he is THE best man ev-ah!!”, I’m probably understating it.  I’d listen to women put their husbands down, talk about his faults, what irritates them about him, how he messed up (like they are so perfeft), everything he does wrong, and personal details that should never have been shared in public.  It was a total lack of respect and honor. 

I swore to myself that if I ever met a Knight In Shining Armor, I would make sure a day doesn’t go by that he doesn’t know I love him.  I would protect what we have together.  I would cherish him (even in the face of dirty laundry).  I would honor him.  I would respect  him.  I would never expose him to public scrutiny in a negative way.  No gossip, no “sharing” and, for sure, no bad-mouthing.  Ev-ah.  I made up my mind to do long this before I met him.

When you consider how long I waited for this KISA (12 years), I was certainly not going to waste any part of our life together.  Oh my gosh, I’d had enough drama in my life before I met him that I swore I would NEVER EVER live like that again.  And along comes this man who loves me!  He loves me!  He’s not afraid to show it.  I love him.  I’m not afraid to show it.  I like gagging people.  I love how he loves me!  And I absolutely refuse to allow one day to go by where he does not know how much I treasure his love.  I thank God for him.

We’ve been married 17 years, 9 months, 4 weeks today.  I only grow to love him more as each year passes.  He is my best friend and support.  He believes in me.  He is the first and only man to send me flowers.  He gives me everything I need.  And if it is within his power, he gives me everything I want and desire. 

Of course, I, in turn, do not want and desire things.  I want and desire him.  He is crazy about me!  And I can honestly say to you that not one time in 17 years, 9 months, 4 weeks have I ever bad-mouthed him to another person on this earth.  Ever.  Oh, I might have talked to myself but…

We work very hard to protect our marriage.  We do not speak badly about one another to others.  We hash out everything and even tho I’m sure he wants to pinch my head off sometimes, in 17 years, 9 months, 4 weeks, I think we only went to bed mad at one another one time – sometime 16 years ago.  It was no fun.  We didn’t like it.  We decided not to do that again.

He is strong, a man of honor and unwavering in what is right and what is wrong.  He is a man of God and is beyond my wildest dreams.  He’s got my back at all times.  AND he even does the dishes and sometimes clears out the dryer, folding the clothes AND not just because he’s on the hunt for socks.  AND He vacuums.  I know!!

I am his biggest cheerleader and he is mine.  I believe in him totally.  I believe in his dreams.  And sure, there are times we holler – well, I do.  He sulls up.  We learned that we don’t like that, either.  We decided not to do that again, either.  We work to keep the poison out of our marriage.  We don’t spend time alone with the opposite sex, or have intimate conversations with them about anything. 

Today I decided that I wanted to do a tribute to Alpha Hubby.  I wanted to publicly thank him for loving me like he does.  He makes my world a better place with his powerful love.

I want to thank him for working hard to support this family and allowing me the freedom to be home to write and pursue my dreams.  I want to thank him for getting up every morning 5 to 6 days a week to go to that job.  I want to thank him for the work he does in our home, creating dream rooms for me.  I want to thank him for the passion we have together (BOY! Do I want to thank him for THAT!).  I want to thank him for the unconditional support he has given me while I am on this journey to get back into my Little Black Dress.  UN-CONDITIONAL.  His heart burns for ME (and it’s not indigestion).

I’m so glad I tangled up my life and dreams with his! 

Baby, I love how you love me.  You do an excellent job!

One thing that strengthens my relationship with Alpha Hubby is his sense of humor and patience.  Hmm – I guess that is two things.  And boy, does he need them both because without them we wouldn’t have what we have now.

We had the benefit of knowing God was up to something when we met.  Knowing that, I believe, gave us an extra added “bump” to protect our marriage from the known danger factors.  You know factors such as eating my special cashews.

Oh, you would think this is no big deal but Alpha Hubby is a dirty low down rotten scoundrel thief.  Yeah you heard me, baby – YOU are a dirty low down rotten scoundrel thief.  

His thievery started out the first year we were married.  He stole an innocent child’s chicken strips.  That is a story for another day but suffice it to say, Alpha Son still talks about his chicken strips 16 years later.

Now the cashew issue is one that still bugs me to this day.  Oh yeah, sure I’ve forgiven him and generally forgotten about it.  Then I will see a container of beautiful whole cashews and the memory jumps on me again, taking me to places I shouldn’t go.  Places of revenge.  Of getting even.

The story goes like this.  Once upon a time, a friend sent me these unbelievably huge whole cashews knowing how much I liked them.  There were very few in the specialty store container but oh so delish looking.  I can drag out big cashews like that – eating a couple here and there, savoring every bite for weeks!  They had also sent English walnuts for Alpha Hubby.  Got that?  Cashews for me, English walnuts for him.

After gouging a small hole in the plastic covering and digging out a couple of cashews, I set the container on the countertop.  I gave Alpha Hubby his walnuts.  I don’t remember what I wandered off to do but I wasn’t gone THAT long.  I always had those cashews in the back of my mind, salivating.

The next time I went into the kitchen, I decided to get another cashew.  To my horror, the container was EMPTY.  I am quite afraid that I emitted a rather… unladylike BELLOW.  “WHERE ARE MY CASHEWS??”

It wasn’t as if I didn’t know being that we were the only two at home.  He came into the dining room, looked at the empty container, looked at my flushed (and not from s*x) face and knew he was doomed.

I truly hesitate to tell you what he said.  But he swears he wasn’t misbehaving and that it wasn’t him or his fault or… but give me a break.  He had salt on his lips and cashews on his breath.

Misbehaving.  And playing that innocent “who me?” surprised-that-I’d-suspect-him look combined with “uh oh, busted” look.  I can’t tell you how many times he’s done this in our marriage.  He really is a dirty low down rotten scoundrel thief.   And NO I don’t mark out the words this time.  Scoundrel.

Lessons I had to learn in our marriage:  Don’t leave anything in the fridge that I want to eat later.  Not without making him look me in the eyes (to ensure he really heard me) and threatening his life if he touches it.  Don’t leave the last best favorite bite on my plate and look away or get up from the table.  It won’t be there when I return.  Oh blah blah blahdy blah.

Let’s just cut to the chase.  Don’t leave any food or drink anywhere near him and actually think it will be there if I leave the room and come back.  Or look away to talk to someone.  It is gone in 10 seconds.  It always makes him feel so superior to steal my food even if I sort of sneakily let him, to keep from overeating.   He doesn’t know that.  Oh.  Guess he does now, huh?

But does he share?  I DON’T THINK SO.  Not only is he a dirty low down rotten scoundrel thief, he is also a stingy slick-willy greedy guts who doesn’t share his own food.  Case in point?  His organic peanut butter.

The other night, he was contentedly sitting at the table eating some bread and peanut butter.  He guards his peanut butter like it is gold.  If he leaves to get some milk, he always looks as me suspiciously when he comes back to see if I took a bite of his bread (I don’t… unless he’s already taken a bite and may not notice if some was nibbled off that area).  Oh.  I guess he knows that now, too.  Huh.

So the other day, I flat out tried to steal his coated up bread.  He fought me off.  So I gave up and leaned in to kiss him.  He put his hand up and stopped me, declaring:

“Stop!  You’re just trying to get secondhand peanut butter.”

Greedy guts.  How did he know?

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At least he ain’t misbehavin’ with my heart!

Count Basie, Ain’t Misbehavin (Recorded 1959)