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Jan. 20th, 2006 01:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rushthatspeaksI love my wife. I was recently having one of those I-hate-the-world-and-everything-in-it-and-also-I-suck moments, and was going on about it, and she struck me very very lightly in the face with her left hand and told me that she was calling me out for insulting her wife, which was not a thing that she would stand for. And then of course I pictured myself fighting a desperate duel for my own honour, complete with foils at dawn, seconds (the cats), and myself as the onlooking injured party utterly uncertain whose side I should be taking (my loving and gorgeous spouse's, she so willing to put herself in danger for me, or my own, for I must confess I look dashing in the grey dawn light despite being such an utter cad-- what a choice for a lady!).
Now I feel better.
Best. Wife. Ever.
I'd totally win, too, since as far as I know Ruth doesn't fence and I have, except that I'd have to throw myself across Ruth's breast and plead with myself not to hurt her, and then of course I would be swayed by my own dramatic pleas, and, forswearing my rakish ways, nobly retire to the country. This seems a bit inconvenient, especially at this time of year, so I fear I shall be forced to call the fight, and consider myself sadly to be no gentleman.
Maybe I could apologize. Hmm. I'll have to see if I would accept a handsome letter of considerable contrition. I should hate to be forced to give myself the cut direct in the street.
In conclusion, I don't suck. And I really, really love being married.
Now I feel better.
Best. Wife. Ever.
I'd totally win, too, since as far as I know Ruth doesn't fence and I have, except that I'd have to throw myself across Ruth's breast and plead with myself not to hurt her, and then of course I would be swayed by my own dramatic pleas, and, forswearing my rakish ways, nobly retire to the country. This seems a bit inconvenient, especially at this time of year, so I fear I shall be forced to call the fight, and consider myself sadly to be no gentleman.
Maybe I could apologize. Hmm. I'll have to see if I would accept a handsome letter of considerable contrition. I should hate to be forced to give myself the cut direct in the street.
In conclusion, I don't suck. And I really, really love being married.
