I make a thing out of Husband and his nerdery* around here, so it would be the easiest thing for you** to assume that I never share in his nonsense. You might (quite reasonably!) assume that I am never the one to nerd all over our lunch date conversation, or make a terrible joke.
You might also assume that I didn’t eat a pound and a half of grapes yesterday, but then you’d be wrong about two things.
Only one of them made me ill, though.***
HIM: (finishes story of heroic stupidity from Army days)
ME: okay, I need to join that facebook group, to mine their stories. Just join under my page and be like, “I’m married to…. one of you… and I need to hear aaaaall of the stories. Also, did you guys do any actual soldiering while you were over there? And where is (guy we were just talking about)? Because I have so many questions.
HIM: I could probably check the group for a McCleod. There can’t be that many.
ME: (nodding) Nah, pretty sure there’s only one.
ME: Yeah, I just did that. I nerded.
HIM: You did.
ME: And you love me for it. That was love I saw in your eyes. And a little admiration.
Mixed marriages are all about compromise: it’s important to throw your partner a bone once in a while so you can continue to disappoint them in a thousand little ways.
At least, that’s what he’ll be telling himself when he takes me to see Pet Sematary in April.
* Yup, that’s a word. I just worded it.
** Whichever one of you is reading now, I’m not going to paint everyone with the same brush (although the text of this post doesn’t change depending on who’s reading it so…)
***No, it wasn’t the grapes. Grapes are awesome. 1.5 pounds isn’t even my record, y’all. Puh-lease.
 Also a word.