On one hand, there are all the things about living with another person 24/7 that just drive you a little bit crazy. Like the third drawer from the bottom in our dresser. Nearly every time Jeff open and closes it, it doesn't close all the way. It gets left like 1-2 inches open. So I shut it. This happens like every single day. He probably doesn't even know that it's happening. Haha.
Then there's the whole concept of being constantly there for each other, unconditionally. It's wonderful. It also causes you to drop everything and immediately run to the pharmacy to fill four prescriptions when your husband gets home from the dentist mumbling and looking like this:
Yep, Jeff got his wisdom teeth out last week. They had already grown in so it wasn't really a surgery like most people have at the age of 18 or so, but it still required Vicodin and lots of Jello and soup.
That's his teeth in the bag. Doesn't he look all Vicodin-ized?
I used to wonder how my mom had the motivation to drop everything and take care of us kids when we would get sick, and now I kinda-sorta understand. When he walked in the door like that, my mind was instantly like CVS. Medication. Go to Kroger for Jello and yogurt and applesauce. Pillow and blanket on the couch. Refill his water. Here, take these pills. 4-6 hours. etc. And it didn't stop until a few days later when he was feeling better. I didn't even have to think about it, I just did it. Must be love.
My bedside table has become a pharmacy.
Of course, I also had the added benefit of witnessing drugged-up Jeff, which was funny. At one point he was gazing off into the distance, so I asked him what he was thinking, and he replied "I'm trying to think of a song I can play with my heel..." Oh, Vicodin.
Life with a husband is also just completely lovely at times. Every day Jeff gets home from work and walks into the apartment and puts down his laptop and gives me kisses and tells me he loves me. And it's like for a couple minutes, my real-life world is entirely perfect.
He always tells me thank you for making dinner, even though I've been doing it all the time lately. When we get in bed at night he makes sure my covers are all straight and correctly situated, because he knows that I like them to be neat and orderly (I know, I know, OCD much?). And then we turn sideways to face each other and talk about things, and it's like I get to have a slumber party with my best friend every single night.
And then in the morning I wake up to all 7 of his alarms that go off before he decides to actually get up.
And that, my friends, is what real life with a husband is like.