Husband
(page 2)
For years my wedding ring has done its job. It has led me not into temptation. It has reminded my husband numerous times at parties that it's time to go home. It has been a source of relief to a dinner companion. It has been a status symbol in the maternity ward.
I just want to be there for my husband. I don't ever want him to think that he's not getting everything at home — love, attention, encouragement, a meal. I just want him to feel the best he feels at home. I think that's what a good wife is. Someone who is very attentive to her husband.
I love seeing my husband hold our daughter and just give her kisses, unsolicited kisses. When he doesn't know that I'm watching or when I come into the room and I look over and he's just kissing her forehead or kissing her cheek. He loves her so much, and I love his love for her.
I've found that I snack less and concentrate better when I chew on a plastic stirrer — the kind that you get to stir your to-go coffee. I picked up this habit from my husband, who loves to chew on things. His favorite chew-toy is a plastic pen top, and gnawed pen tops and little bits of plastic litter our apartment.
A real man loves his wife, and places his family as the most important thing in life. Nothing has brought me more peace and content in life than simply being a good husband and father.
I pray to be a good servant to God, a father, a husband, a son, a friend, a brother, an uncle, a good neighbor, a good leader to those who look up to me, a good follower to those who are serving God and doing the right thing.
My dad was my best friend and greatest role model. He was an amazing dad, coach, mentor, soldier, husband and friend.
My husband wanted to be cremated. I told him I'd scatter his ashes at Neiman Marcus — that way, I'd visit him every day.
A good wife is one who serves her husband in the morning like a mother does, loves him in the day like a sister does and pleases him like a prostitute in the night.
A good wife is someone who thinks she has done everything right: raising the kids, being there for the husband, being home, trying to do it all.
I remember debating the finer points of flaky pastry with my chicken-pot-pie-obsessed American dad. I remember the divine mix of Thai food, TV dinners, and hearty, homemade goodness that have shaped this palate of mine to this day. I remember all this, but I still Google my husband's birthday. Thank God he's famous.
As I grew up and began identifying myself as a feminist, there were plenty of issues that continued to make me question marriage: the father 'giving' the bride away, women taking their husband's last name, the white dress, the vows promising to 'obey' the groom. And that only covers the wedding.
It is better for a woman to compete impersonally in society, as men do, than to compete for dominance in her own home with her husband, compete with her neighbors for empty status, and so smother her son that he cannot compete at all.
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