Who’s The Lucky Boy?


I have, for the most part, been with women that have great senses of humour. Generally speaking, they are the only ones who know how to take me. You see, I am a bit of a smart-ass and I don’t usually care what people think, so that sometimes makes for unpredictable dinner conversations. If you are stuffy and are worried about what your date will say, in front of people, I’m probably not your guy. I’ve been with a few ladies that thought they could clean me up and change me into some sort of man that suited their lives, but they couldn’t. I told them that from the start, they just didn’t believe me.

“Why did you have to make that joke about my parents having sex… right to them?”

“I’m betting they still have sex. Look at the way he looks at her. He’s totally diggin’ that ass. When did you become such a prude, anyhow?”

“Ugh, when are you going to quit saying shit like that?”

“I’m not. Why would you think I would stop it? I told you, I’m not going to change.”

And I’m not going to change. Not like that, anyways.

There was a quote by Albert Einstein that goes like this:

You're spot on, Al... Kinda.

You’re spot on, Al… Kinda.

That is true in a sense, except for the disappointed part.

Oh, I’m sure that in a lot of relationships it’s as right as rain, but in mine, it’s different. I have changed in a way. I acknowledge that. Maybe you’ve noticed it? My writing is a bit different maybe? My tone is not as biting, or as lovey-dovey as it used to be? I don’t know what it is, but I know I’ve changed.

I’ve changed around the house too. I attribute it to the kids getting older, and I feel like I have to look out for them more than be their buddy. This must seem to them that I don’t like them anymore, but that’s far from true. I love those girls with everything I can muster. It’s just that they are growing up and it’s hard for me to show a level of authority while still doing all of the things that I want to do with them. I hate to say it, but they are trying to figure out my buttons, and I am showing them that I know all of the tricks. Like I told Mrs. Birdman, I was the sneakiest little asshole in the village of Harwood. I know all of the sick faking, fist fighting, homework losing fibs and omissions of truth that have come down the pike. You can ask my mom. She was there.

I’m not saying I got away with them all, but I do know them, just as Mom knew them, and just as the girls will know them if they have kids of their own. I’m not going to go into detail about anything, because it’s all run of the mill playground stuff, and I’ve told myself I wasn’t going to write about their lives, because they deserve some semblance of privacy, and seeing as they aren’t old enough to read this blog and defend themselves, it really wouldn’t be fair to them.

Plus, I’m not a fucking daddy blogger! I say shit, like Douchey McFuckbucket too much.

The point I sat down to make tonight was that people change, and they don’t. Being a stepfather has changed me. Being a husband has changed me. I don’t think they have changed who I am or what I stand for, but they have changed things about me. I still blurt inappropriate things out in mixed company, I just try to do it respectfully now.

The thing is, my wife likes me the way that I am. Yes, even after being together for a couple of years. She never tries to stifle me or asks me to change something I’m writing, because she realises that I yam what I yam, and nothing is going to take that out of me. She knew that from the start and has told me on occasion that she is actually afraid that I will change.

Not this time around, Graphic Image.

Not this time around, motherfucker.

That’s the thing. That’s how I know that she’s the one. Sure they have all said “Please don’t change.” but they meant the hand holding, G-spot orgasms, and backrubs. That always becomes evident after a few months, but when they still say it after a year of you at your worst, you know it’s for real.

Mrs. Birdman has changed too, and for the better. She has become less cynical, happier, and way more aware of everything. For real. I had always thought I was lucky to have her, but in the last year or so I’ve seen a real shift in her behaviour, and it really makes me so proud of her. Like proud to the point of happy little  tears dribbling down my cheeks.

She, like all of us, makes some bad decisions in her day to day life. It’s just what we do as people. Now I notice that when she thinks she has made a mistake, she immediately rectifies it. No matter what it is. I have told her on a few occasions to throw me under the bus for something, but she never does, even if it is my fault.

She has also started putting “her time” ahead of editing, which is nice. She will kill me for saying it, but she does it a lot now, compared to before. It’s not a laziness thing or anything like that, she just really enjoys being around people she loves. If she gets a chance to have lunch with Beaner, or maybe a coffee with a friend from town, she is running out the door to see them. The cool thing is that she always comes back so happy and energized, because she got some time to chat with a dear friend and unwind, that she seems more energized and just smiles and edits away for the rest of the afternoon.

That is probably my greatest joy, and the biggest cliche around, to see her smile like that. It is so full and genuine,  that nothing could wipe it off of her face. I know. I’ve tried lots of things.

Seriously, look at that smile. And this is when I am chewing on her cheek.  (photo credit - The Cleave)

Seriously, look at that smile. And this is when I am gumming her cheek. (photo credit – Cleave)

11 thoughts on “Who’s The Lucky Boy?

  1. You are a lovely man, and I am so happy to have you. 🙂 I love you my sweet love. xoxo Thank you for the lovely, non-commercial valentine. You are the greatest thing to ever happen to me.

    (Except for my kids).

    🙂 xo

  2. I agree with you, being a domesticated man has changed not who I am, but little parts of me that probably needed changing anyway. Just don’t ever stop saying Douchey McFuckbucket. The day you start saying things like GoshDarn McFiddlesticks is the day I take a road trip up there and bitch slap you myself.

    • I’m tempted, just to get you up here and let you sample some of our delicious, local craft beers. You’re right about some things needing to be changed though. I think I’m far more patient and understanding now.

  3. I hear ya Dirty Bird. When I made the decision to never waste anymore of my life in relationships with people that I had nothing in common with and that I would never lower my standards the longer I looked, like most women do. I spent some time enjoying my own company and then the male version of myself showed up and we have been together 10 years this September. I can’t imagine him not being in my life and look forward to spending time with him everyday. He is my lobstah. Everyone has the chance to get their lobstah. Just never compromise who you are.

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