Stories Related to Marriage
My husband and I have been married for over 30 years. It hasn’t always been easy. Even now, there are times I look at him and just want to say, “What are you doing here?! You haven’t left yet?” But, I know there are times he, too, feels the same way about me (on rare occasions).
Yes, we’ve been together for a long time and I still love him with all my heart. I could never give him away (I know because I’ve tried and there are no takers) even though I like to share.
To define a “happy marriage,” is to say it’s a “good marriage.” Here are some key points to remember when dealing with your own relationship:
- Through God ALL things are possible; even forgiveness.
- Remember to forgive and forget even the worst travesties because you’re not perfect, either.
- With time, pain will lessen and even go away, no matter the dirty deed.
- Always be honest with one another because there is not another person who will be there for you through thick and thin (especially if you’ve been good to one another).
- And, lastly, in addition to number 4 – even your parents gave you away so you see: your spouse is the one who is sticking by you.
Have faith in the Lord, allow him into your marriage, he is always in your corner.
I jokingly asked my husband, Reese, one day if he would object to my writing books of a pornographic nature.
“Yes,” he answered simply.
“Why? I can’t believe you have a problem with me writing books,” I said.
He answered, “It’s not writing books that bother me: it’s you writing porn because I know I would be the star of your novels.”
“So, you’re saying it’s okay to write books though?”
“Yes,” he answered nodding his head, “Just no sex involved.”
I smiled and said, “Much like our marriage, huh?”
My daughter, Amber, says she doesn’t want me to write about her at all and if I do, I cannot write about her prom night(s). I cannot write about her troubles at school, or her teachers, at any time, ever. I cannot write about her past boyfriends, husbands, childhood friends, childhood, or anything else other than her pets.
“That leaves me nothing to write about,” I exclaimed, quite put out.
My son says the same. I cannot write about his childhood or his friends (unless they did something stupid like Noah and Ian have done and Reese is out of the equation). I cannot write anything about him at all.
“So what do I write about,” I asked my son.
“Go write about Dad.”
Now, I’m back to square one. Instead, I write books about other people.
My son, Reese got into the back seat of the car and noticed a loaf of bread in the other seat so he asked his father, “Why is there a loaf of bread in the back seat?”
My husband answered, “I stopped at the store last night and picked it up.”
I looked in the back at my son who wore a dumbfounded expression and said, “Okay, but why is it here in the back seat of the car?
My husband replied, “It was sliced like regular bread. I wanted it whole so I could tear off pieces.
My son and I looked at each other again. Then I spoke up, “Okay! But one more time: WHY is the bread STILL in the back seat of the car?”
“Because I forgot to take it in,” he answered.
And men say they cannot understand women! Wasn't my son clear at the start?
I was trying to write an article on one of my old teachers, Tommy Shubrick. I knew Tommy had passed away some years ago and as I searched unsuccessfully for the obituary, my husband hears me moaning and grumbling. As a matter of fact, I cannot even find Tommy’s family! I cannot find anything on him except what Woodie Chavis was able to give me. Woodie is an old Georgetonian and someone I communicate with on Facebook.
Finally, after a couple of days and many hours of searching, I find Tommy’s wife and discover she doesn’t live very far from me at all.
As I announce to my husband that we’re going over there to meet with her, my husband says to me, "Where exactly are we going?"
I'm so excited and answer with, "We're going to meet Tommy Shubrick's wife! O-M-G! She lives right over here! I cannot believe I've spent this whole time looking for information on him. I've even had other people online helping me to find information and here she was, sitting right there!"
I was so very excited until ... my husband says, "Oh, I knew she lived over here. She's been here for years."
And to think men wonder why women believe some men look better wearing a cast iron skillet as a hat.
While I stayed busy working in my eBay store, I had asked my husband if he would mind making me some eggs and toast. I didn’t want to stop working because I knew if I had I would be distracted and would not get back to the task at hand until hours later.
“You want two eggs and toast,” he asked.
“Make that one egg and one slice of toast,” I answered.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I only want one egg, one slice of toast,” I confirmed then added. “I have some sausage in the freezer, too, that I cooked and didn’t use. Can you toss those in the microwave and thaw them out?”
“What do you want those for?”
(Did he just ask me why I wanted sausage?) What an inappropriate question, I thought to myself. I looked over at him and answered, “To eat.”
“Okay,” he responds, “Why only one egg and one slice of toast?”
Sighing out loud, I explained, “Because that’s all I ever eat. I ask for two eggs and two slices of toast out of habit and then I never eat it mostly because I cannot eat the toast.”
My husband goes into the kitchen to fix breakfast. As he wrestles with the bread he calls out, “That’s one egg – how many pieces of toast do you want?”
And you wonder why I'm Cranky.