Marriage is About Your Spouse Embarrassing You and Not Caring

Last weekend Jenny and I went on another trip to a New Jersey landmark. Our first was to see The Deserted Village of Feltville, which you can enjoy by clicking that link or this other one. When we have the time to edit it (okay, when SHE has the time because she’s the editor) you’ll see more of our latest adventure. For now, enjoy this picture and a lesson I now know for sure about being married.

There is a lot wrong with this picture. More on that below.

Do I have no shame? At what point in my life did I decide to give up looking cool? I think it’s when my best efforts never worked. Jenny just reminds me that it’s a lost cause and I should simply embrace being a goof.

Each day I’m reminded more and more how little vanity matters. One day, I’ll be wrinkly and look like dried fruit. Why waste time doing that when I can instead impersonate Kate Winslet?

This picture is more embarrassing than meets the eye. What’s up with those socks? How old am I?

Also, do I do anything with my hair, like ever? It’s dead in the front and flopping there like some extra limb doctors refuse to operate on because it may kill me.

I’ve never liked seeing pictures of myself. These days, I dislike it, but also don’t really care if I have some extra belly fat or dirty clothes. I am what I am and that’s a smelly, stinky, unkempt beast. No matter how domesticated I’ve become, I’ll probably always have a stray nose hair.

stray nose hair
Professional nose hair hiding trick: Always have a little bit of a mustache ready. I call it blending.

Every day I notice I’m growing into a dad-bod. I don’t exercise the same as I used to. I’m not sure I even could. My pants are regularly falling down because my butt looks like Hank Hill from King of the Hill’s. I also have a huge bald spot on the back of my head which only seems to grow in every picture I see from behind. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m getting older. Soon, I’ll wear shorts on vacation with socks that are pulled up way too high.

Jenny and I will joke about how much she enjoys making me look like a fool. While I do enjoy entertaining her and giving her a laugh, about half the time I had no intention of being a jester.

For the sake of our marriage, she doesn’t need to know that. I’m just going to play it cool and hope she thinks this is all an act.

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