Have you ever witnessed those really obnoxious couples that sit on the same side of the booth at a restaurant even when it’s just the two of them? I mean how exasperating is that? There they go, wasting a perfectly good side of the table because they are too googley-eyed to sit across from each other; the distance in space between the two of them would simply be too far. So, there they perch inches apart, thus having to turn their neck at a painful 90 degree angle to make eye contact for the duration of their conversation. Then, if they are the truly abhorrent clingy couple, they will struggle to eat one handed because the other hand is occupied with holding their partner’s hand. Mind you, due to the lack of one-handed eating dexterity, one of the partners will manage to get food on their face, and as if EVERYONE does this, the other will lick it off with a kiss.
Gross right? Except, there’s only one problem; I AM THIS COUPLE. And I love it!
I am in a “same side of the boothe” relationship with my husband and I have never been happier. Is it cheesy? Abso-freakin-lutely. Would it make more sense to sit on the other side? Sure. Do we get stares? I blame that on Buckethead’s fierce good looks. Plus, sometimes WE FEED EACH OTHER. Okay, stop gagging. It’s not that bad.
Before I continue, I must note that this is not nor has ever been typical “Jpo” behavior. Too many times in previous relationships, I have cared too much of what others thought, or simply didn’t want to feel someone else’s hot breath on my arm while eating my frito pie. There are many aspects of my marriage to Buckethead that differ from my first marriage. Basically, I am a completely different type of wife. God knows, I’m far from perfect. I still sit in the bathroom sink to pop zits every night before coming to bed, thus enticing my husband for a late night rendezvous appearing as splotchy as a pepperoni pizza. And there’s a very slight chance that I may be a little overly sensitive—very slight chance. But one of the biggest differences in who I am in my marriage today, is that I love Buckethead without reservation.
Once upon a time, I was hesitant about not only loving someone, but showing someone that kind of love. I figured acting “ga-ga” over someone was showed some sign of weakness. Today, I love Buckethead deeper, stronger and without condition. So when I sit beside him in a restaurant booth or I blog about how hot I think he looks in his swimsuit, don’t hate. Just swallow that throw up in your mouth and know that I am completely and totally crazy in love with my husband.
I hope it never goes away. When we’re 90—well, Buckethead will be 90 and I’ll just be starting menopause—I hope that we are still sitting on the same side of the booth, having fully mastered the art of single hand eating, still hopelessly in love like we are today.