Stand Tall...Stand Proud...You'r An 8!!!
Ahh yes, we all remember being younger and dreaming of meeting our "Prince Charming". Tall, dark and handsome, driving up to your doorstep in a black Corvette. A perfect 10, right? Riiiggghhhhtttt. Well I did meet my prince. He turned out to be tall, fair, very handsome...only he didn't drive a black Corvette. He drove a red Honda Civic hatchback.
So the other night, my prince and I were having a playful discussion, during which we decided it would be fun to rate each other as spouses. 10 being THE perfect spouse. Never putting themselves first. 1 would of course be a crack head spouse. So we came to the amicable conclusion that we are each good, solid 8's. I was actually rather surprised and really proud of myself when he told me I was an 8. I was thinking 7 at best. So with that he proceeded to tell me that he was now on a mission to become a 9! 10 of course being unachievable and unrealistic. So I said..."You go boy!" More power to him! I then told him that I would not be joining him on this journey to become a better spouse. I told him that I was perfectly happy being a solid 8 as a wife. My life is not too complicated. I do the house work...for the most part, do the laundry...usually, take care of the kids, try to the best of my ability to keep up on my appearance. I'm not expected to do yard work or keep up on the cars...hell, I don't even pay the bills, nor do I want to! So yes, I said to myself, I am going to be the best damn 8 I can be! I'm going to delight in the fact that I'm not a 6 or 7.....I...AM....AN...8!
Fast forward to last night. I had asked my darling prince to please help me retrieve my sewing boxes out of the garage after dinner. He said "ok". We ate, I cleaned up, and he sat down. A few moments later he looks at me, with overly exaggerated "tired eyes" and says..."Do I really have to go out and get those boxes?" I replied, "No, its fine." With that, he sighed and said, "I don't think I want to be a 9 anymore. It's a lot more work than being an 8".
I said, "Thats ok....welcome back to level 8. It's a good place to be."
So the other night, my prince and I were having a playful discussion, during which we decided it would be fun to rate each other as spouses. 10 being THE perfect spouse. Never putting themselves first. 1 would of course be a crack head spouse. So we came to the amicable conclusion that we are each good, solid 8's. I was actually rather surprised and really proud of myself when he told me I was an 8. I was thinking 7 at best. So with that he proceeded to tell me that he was now on a mission to become a 9! 10 of course being unachievable and unrealistic. So I said..."You go boy!" More power to him! I then told him that I would not be joining him on this journey to become a better spouse. I told him that I was perfectly happy being a solid 8 as a wife. My life is not too complicated. I do the house work...for the most part, do the laundry...usually, take care of the kids, try to the best of my ability to keep up on my appearance. I'm not expected to do yard work or keep up on the cars...hell, I don't even pay the bills, nor do I want to! So yes, I said to myself, I am going to be the best damn 8 I can be! I'm going to delight in the fact that I'm not a 6 or 7.....I...AM....AN...8!
Fast forward to last night. I had asked my darling prince to please help me retrieve my sewing boxes out of the garage after dinner. He said "ok". We ate, I cleaned up, and he sat down. A few moments later he looks at me, with overly exaggerated "tired eyes" and says..."Do I really have to go out and get those boxes?" I replied, "No, its fine." With that, he sighed and said, "I don't think I want to be a 9 anymore. It's a lot more work than being an 8".
I said, "Thats ok....welcome back to level 8. It's a good place to be."
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