That woman I married is so argumentative. For someone who claims to be Jesus' disciple, she sure can be disagreeable. There I was, right after kissing her good-bye this morning, saying, "I love you, you know."
And she answers back, "I love you MORE."
So, of course, I have to correct her, "No, I love YOU more."
So, does she do as the Bible commands and acknowledge her husband as the head of the household whose word is final? No, of course not. She answers back, "No, I love YOU more."
So once again, I'm forced to point out her error, "No, I love YOU more."
And again she contradicts, "No, love YOU more."
This degenerates into:
Bob: No, ... love YOU more!
Joyce: No, I ... more!
Bob: No, more!
Joyce: Nope, more!
And so it goes until, as I pull away from the curb and declare my superior devotion one final time, she just has to get in the last word: "Nope!"
But little does she know, my word is final. As I round the corner and turn out of sight, I smile: "Nope, I love you more, Joyceee."
And she answers back, "I love you MORE."
So, of course, I have to correct her, "No, I love YOU more."
So, does she do as the Bible commands and acknowledge her husband as the head of the household whose word is final? No, of course not. She answers back, "No, I love YOU more."
So once again, I'm forced to point out her error, "No, I love YOU more."
And again she contradicts, "No, love YOU more."
This degenerates into:
Bob: No, ... love YOU more!
Joyce: No, I ... more!
Bob: No, more!
Joyce: Nope, more!
And so it goes until, as I pull away from the curb and declare my superior devotion one final time, she just has to get in the last word: "Nope!"
But little does she know, my word is final. As I round the corner and turn out of sight, I smile: "Nope, I love you more, Joyceee."
25 comments:
And as I wander back in the house, I wonder, when our minds are gone from old-timers, and our vision fades, will the nurses wonder why our last words are, "no, I love you more" and shake their heads at what appears to be an arrogant old lady---and a stubborn old man.
The boys give up when we try to play this game with them. "whatever" or "okay" they reply. They don't know its an old, old game.
I know I defineately give you MORE to love. ha
And I give up watering the back yard. I am glad you warned me that it pops off easily. It made it half-way, and I was able to restart. But, when I tried to reposition, and get it to head south-southeast, it keeps popping off. And I am drenched from restarting and getting sprayed.
Nope! I love YOU more!
Heck with the watering.
Nope. I love you more.
And since God gives me His perfect love for you, then I love you with God's PERFECT love. Try topping that. ha.
You two are cute! There's just so much love here :)
OH,,,I love that ya'll do that too! Joyce isn't being disobedient she's just umm.....persistent in honoring you! That's what I tell JP when he says I'm stubborn...he confuses that for persistence. See,,there ya go. It's great to have your grandbabies argue that point...our grandson is 12 and he will still "love you more!" me.."hearts popping above my head!"
Blessings from the holler yall
you guys are so cute!
Can't you find something BETTER to argue about like which way the tp rolls or how to squeeze the toothpaste? Geezelouise! Do I need to come over there and show you two how to argue? :)
Blech!!!! hehe
G. Dazzle--
This is a tad saccharine, isn't it?
Gladys--
We've been married 31 years -- trust me, you have nothing to teach us about fighting.
Jamie--
Define "cute". It's not an adjective that I usually have ascribed to me.
Mrs JP--
Persistent -- yeah, that describes Joyce well (though some fool might say "stubborn" fits better).
Amber--
Just as there's lots of us, so there's lots of love in this family.
Joyce--
Nope, God likes me better, so He gave me more. So there!!!
So you want the last word, eh? You want it so bad, okay, so there, you can have the last word. ha.
Thank you for taking the garbage to the street this morning. It is one-hundred degrees outside, and the garbage truck just came by at 2:44pm.
I'd say, Love, Joyce, but then I'd be one up on you.
This is the song that never ends...it goes on and on my friends...
rain. it is raining. don't need to water this week. wow. we can roll up that old hose and retire that old little lawn tractor...what a blessing. a surgical storm
Keep it up you too!
Joyceee--
You let me win an argument! Wow, you must love me.
I meant, "Keep it up you two!"
It's pretty bad that I realized that an hour after I wrote the comment.
yes, I must love you more.
No, I must love YOU more.
"Let me win" you whine.
"Let me win." "Did you add something?" no. "Well, don't."
So, I cannot add anything. Even this is a crime. I cannot say how much I love you. I cannot wax eloquent. I cannot brag. I dare not tell the world of women what a snuggle-spooner you are. I must keep all this to myself.
Okay. If you insist.
But, are you sure? Don't you want the world to know that you thrill my heart when even after thirty-two years you whisper in the dark, "thank you for marrying me."
How do I love you? Let me count the ways. But, not here. No. I have been told, "don't.." "Let me win". Okay. YOU win.
And you said you'd be back. And trained as I have been, under your preciseness and literalness that is both charming and maddening sometimes---I asked, will you also be front? and sideways? For I love your sexy hairy chest, and your deep voice.
Good thing we are not Catholics, or you'd be requiring penance for all this disobedience. I have the luxury of time to like you more. See, I did not say I love you more. I said I like you more.
And Happy Birthday to your Mom today. You said she'd be 89, but now forever 33. I can't wait to meet her and see her smile when she finds out you did get married. The neighbors said your mom remarked that she just could not imagine you married. But, God is good, and you married, and have three fine grandsons to show your Mom.
Have you ever blogged about the time you hid the money for insurance and laid in wait? or the time you broke the window beside the door and and she was so mad? or how you charmed her Sunday School class of junior high ladies? or how she met you coming back into church with your clothes on in reverse order?
I only know the stories. I only know she died peacefully, and quietly, in the middle of a sentence. And how after eight kids, and one grandchild, God gave her a rest. Now there are eighteen grandchildren, and eleven greats
whoops. paragraph nine should read: grand sons with a space, as you have three fine sons. And our granddaughter is one of the eleven great-grandchildren of your mom.
It is amazing to me that your Mom's name is used again partly in Clarissa and in Clarissa's daughter, Clara. That is good. I wonder in a hundred years if there will be any more Joyceees.
Now that's something you don't see everyday ... paragraph nine of a comment. Okay, I guess you've proved it -- you love me more.
I may be #2, but I try harder.
(BTW-- Thanks for the ideas for blog fodder.)
see, I did not add anything. I let you win. Aren't I good?
And did you get my email today at work thanking you for you-know-what this morning? I wondered if it made it through your firewall sensors.
there was this silly story on breitbart tv today where this Irish "expert" said the internet was detremental to relationships. ha. It has enhanced ours.
Yeah, Mrs. JP's Mom, my dearly beloved mother-in-law, is the queen of "persistence", but her daughter did not fall far from the tree, and, shall we say, her head was hard enough to handle the impact?
Hmmm... she's doing the cooking tonight. I hope she doesn't read this before dinner...
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