It's All About Love

How come she shouts at me for leaving the toilet seat up when I cannot get near the washbasin to wash my hands for the mess of her cosmetics?

How come she chides me for a dirty glass on my side of the kitchen table when there is a ton of her junk a mile high on her side of the table?

How come she gets angry if I try to read something whilst she is sleeping, saying she can hear my eyes moving, yet she has the tv on at full blast when I am trying to sleep?

How come after seventy years I still do not know how to wash a spoon?

How come I have to wash and dry the empty fast food containers before I throw them in the rubbish bin?

How come I have to clean the house just before the cleaner lady arrives?

How come I now have to sit on the toilet to take a pee, just like her?

How come I do not know in which order I am supposed to eat the food off my plate?

How come I do not know how to speak my own language yet she does, even though, as her second language, she barely has a grasp of it herself?

How come I still do not know how to shower myself clean?

How come I still do not know how to put my own trousers on?

How come I have got tying my own shoelaces all arse about face?

How come I do not know how to breathe properly?

How come without her I would be totally lost?

How come without her I would have been dead years ago?

How come when I get bitten by a mosquito on my left testicle she refused to accept that explanation and said I did it by scratching my balls in my sleep?

How come I know nothing about anything yet she knows everything about everything?

How come when I forget to turn off the light it is a costly, thoughtless, waste of energy, yet when she forgets to turn a light off it is for some spurious, half-baked reason, but mostly because she is the one who pays the electricity bill?

How come when I started to write online it was a useless waste of time and energy hobby, but when I started to earn money it became a nice little earner?

How come she is always right and I am always wrong?

How come I can never win?

How come when anything bad happens she knew that it would happen long before it happened?

How come even a small child knows more than me?

How come I am too stupid for my own good?

How come I have to be controlled and ordered about like an ungrateful, recalcitrant servant?

How come I put up with half of this crap and I am even still married to this woman?

How come there are days when I wish that I had never been born?

Is it because every negative thing she says about me is true?

Is it because I am some sort of incurable masochist?

Is it because she cooks like a Cordon Bleu chef?

Is it because she is the funniest woman I have ever known?

Is it because, in reality, she is a very smart woman?

Is it because I have never met such a kind, caring, considerate woman in my entire life, apart from my own Mum?

Is it because she always puts me first?

Is it because I know deep down she loves me?

Is it because she once saved my life?

Is it because we still go for walks in the park holding hands?

Is it because she never forgets my birthday?

Is it because she wants me to live forever?

The truth of the matter is that despite all the negative things I have said about her, above, it is because I wouldn’t have her any other way, I love her just as she is with all of my heart and soul, all the way to the moon and back.