adj. luck·i·er, luck·i·est
1. Having or attended by good luck.
2. Occurring by chance; fortuitous.
3. Believed to bring good luck: hoped to draw a lucky number
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Yes my husband can be an ass. A bearded, tobacco chewing, farting, oaf of a man. He can be so stubborn it makes me want to pull my hair out and sometimes I randomly scream obscenities when we argue because he is just so…. so… ooooo! He leaves his dirty boots dripping mud all over the floor, his definition of clean is far from mine, he gets mad at things I shrug off, he hunts non-stop for 10 months of the year, and he has problems grooming his facial hair but always manages to cut it right after I have cleaned the bathroom.
I am lucky. My husband is the sweetest, most caring, romantic, loveable, funny man I have ever met. I love my redneck more than a normal person could imagine.
My husband and I met in college. Correction, we met while dating other people in college. It was not until senior year, one late Monday night in the only bar in town, that I saw him (wearing sweatpants and logging boots) that I knew he was the man for me; the man I was destined to marry.
Unfortunately, he did not feel the same way about settling down at the ripe old age of 22 and after dating off and on for a year he dumped my innocent, head over heels, in love with him butt. Heart broken I moved to Bozeman Montana and told him to never talk to me again.
Fast forward 2 years to the day that I got a phone call from him. I was seeing someone else at the time but knew that I had never gotten over him. He is my one true love. I could not see myself spending my life with anyone else. “Like sand through the hourglass” style I dumped my boyfriend and 6 months later my camo toutin redneck and I were engaged.
A few words to describe our wedding and honeymoon:
Tent, Outdoors, Camouflage vests, my husband running off to look at a deer on the lawn, shot gunning beers in wedding apparel, camping honeymoon in a tent, camping honeymoon in a tent in the pouring rain, sleeping off benadryls from an allergic reaction while camping in a tent on our rainy honeymoon, priceless.
And from there we have lived happily ever after. Yes, my husband spoils me. Yes, he is extremely romantic. Yes, I am lucky.
Do we still fight? Yes! What else would provide excitement in our life if we were complacent. Is our relationship perfect? No, but I wouldn’t want it to be. Is my husband my best friend? Forever.
Lately I have been thinking about a woman at work in her late twenties/early thirties who just lost her husband this week from a freak medical condition. Life is so unpredictable. There are no guarantees. Yes I am lucky.
It is currently hard to see through the tears, sadness, and grief that threaten to overwhelm my daily life as I suffer and mourn over the loss of our first perfect little baby and my hopes and dreams for her poor little soul… but at the end of the day, I am lucky. I have someone to go through this with, while others have not. I have someone to comfort me, console me, and fill the void in my heart.
As I watch and listen to my fellow porchergal, who sits patiently but anxiously watching her two teenage daughters go through the ups and downs of love… perhaps they should take to heart the following.
Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of hot, who calls you back when you hang up, who will stay awake just to watch you sleep. Wait for the boy who kisses you on your forehead, who wants to show you off to the world when you’re in sweats, who holds your hand in front of his friends, who thinks you’re just as pretty without makeup on. Wait for the one who is constantly reminding you of how much he cares about you and how lucky he is to have you. Wait for the one who turns to his friends and says, ”…that’s her’ and smiles
I know I did.