The inimitable Flutter tagged me for a meme. Actually she tagged anyone who was reading and interested, and since Nutmeg recently let spill that she likes hearing me gush about Sean, and then Painted Maypole said she like it too, I thought, “Who am I to disappoint Meg and the mom of the May Queen, by passing up this kind of opportunity?”
Let’s sail away on a blanket of butterflies and weak knees, shall we?
1. Who is your man?
Sean, source of endless butterflies, giver of magnificent back rubs, maker of beautiful babies, crafter of delicious eggs and bacon breakfasts, and fixer of all things seemingly unfixable around an old house.
2. How long have you been together?
Let’s ignore those pesky, insignificant little breaks and say since 1999…thoughts of Prince, anyone?
3. How long did you date?
I fought any sort of courtship the summer we met and then, having turned down the heart he so earnestly offered me, as a plane carried me 3,000 miles away, I realized that oh-my-god-that-was-the-guy-I-am-supposed-to-be-with. We carried on a torrid bi-coastal romance for 2 years, spending the summers together in Williamstown and then finally beginning our life of unwedded, co-habitating bliss in 2001, followed by a wedding in 2003.
4. How old is your man?
31, of course his answer would be “Three years younger than she is.”
5. Who eats more?
I guess he does, though I would argue that, to which he would respond that I eat like a bird. I eat. A lot. I just prefer to do it in many snacks throughout the day. Unless we’re talking turkey burgers, in which case hand me a stack and a couple of bottles of squirty mustard and stand back.
6. Who said “I love you” first?
I am not sure that I remember, I am awful at these things.
7. Who is taller?
He is, though I often rock some sexy heels, in which case, I am.
8. Who sings better?
And my self esteem plummets. He serenaded me at our wedding. Beautifully. He wrote me a song one summer for my birthday. He has a beautiful voice, I on the other hand…let’s just say that I was upstairs with Avery one day and I was singing to her softly. Sean bolted up the stairs. “Are you ok?” He asked panting. “Yes, why? What’s wrong?” I asked. “I heard a voice up here, a singing voice. I thought someone else was up here.”
I do not sing in front of him. That I cannot play an instrument or sing is a source of deep shame and sorrow and haunts me. No joke.
9. Who is smarter?
We are each exceptionally smart in areas that complement one another.
10. Whose temper is worse?
Kind of like our smarts, we play well off one another.
11. Who does the laundry?
12. Who takes out the garbage?
13. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed?
Taking a page from the field in which we met, he sleeps stage right, I sleep stage left.
14. Who pays the bills?
Physically? I do. Financially? There is no distinction between his money and mine.
15. Who is better with the computer?
Hmm, he is a wiz with Photoshop, Illustrator and Flash, but I am the Nancy Drew of internet searches and I have been knocking around with Blogger for so long I am a bit ahead in the blogging realm.
16. Who mows the lawn?
He is the lawnmaster.
17. Who cooks dinner?
He is the grillmaster, but I am the marinade, stew, salad, meat loaf, pizza, pasta and crock pot magic master.
18. Who drives when you are together?
Generally he does.
19. Who pays when you go out?
Hmm, if the girls are with us I do, otherwise he does.
20. Who is most stubborn?
Stubborn? Only when we’re awake. Photo finish.
21. Who is the first to admit when they are wrong?
I am getting better at this.
22. Whose parents do you see the most?
23. Who kissed who first?
I am going to say he kissed me first, but I had to go hat in hand in April of 2001 to declare my love for him. I was terrified and thought he’d turn me down, I think it rivals a first kiss in laying-it-all-on-the-line vulnerability.
24. Who asked who out?
I don’t think there was ever n actual date request.
25. Who proposed?
He did, but it was several months after I had an uncharacteristic public tantrum. I’d never thought that I cared about marriage and all that, then I got a lecture from my grandfather, something to with cows and milk and giving it away, I was too horrified to truly digest it.
Sean gave me a small, ring sized box the Christmas after we moved in together. Anyone would have expected a ring, right? Wrong. Earrings. Ouch. Humiliation. Shame. And then he resignedly showed me the ring through my sniffling sobs. Months passed. Nothing. Tantrum. More months. Finally a proposal while kayaking in Victoria, British Columbia.
26. Who is more sensitive?
Mostly me, but kind of him…
27. Who has more friends?
He does. Hands down.
28. Who has more siblings?
29. Who wears the pants in the family?
We both look great in a tailored trouser, but if I had to say we err on the side of a traditional relationship with a side dish of sassy mouth.
That’s it…for now. If you want to run with this manly ball, go for it. And as for the title, it isn’t missing a “y.” It wasn’t until Sean that I felt the real spark, fireworks actually. Small town, last night of the carnival, starry night fireworks.