Being a Bother

"You act as if I am a bother!" Dennis griped at me this morning.

Well, Dennis, sometimes you are. That doesn't take away the fact that I love you. But when you wake me at 3 in the morning and ask me to turn you, you are a bother. When you wake me again at 6 am (and yes, I had just fallen back to sleep around 5) and ask for Boost, you are a bother. When I have just, that very minute, sat down with a cup of coffee and kitty on my lap, and you call out, "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnn", you are a bother.

Jane, my sister, says this is just men in general. Mother says, "He is such a good guy, and I admire you." Friends say, "I don't know how you do it." Dennis' family says, "Thank you. You must really love him."

Dennis and I talked. I told him that sometimes he was a bother. I also reminded him that he was married to a woman who had serious mental health issues, and hadn't she been a bother? I have never been a mother, but I can only assume that at times, children are a bother.

I suppose I could work harder at not rolling my eyes, after all I hate the old eye roll myself. I could "sigh" less, I suppose. And I could stop telling him that he is driving me crazy. I am so good at verbalizing everything, that I forget that Dennis is sensitive.

We will work this out. So far we have been able to work everything out. It helps that we are both highly motivated to stay together. "What's love got to do with it?" Everything, my friends. Everything.

Until later,
Ann and Dennis