When I got up this morning my Beloved Curmudgeon and I were talking about nothing in particular when he said, 'Why did you write reasonably happy?' 'Huh?', I asked with my usual stunning brilliance. 'Reasonably happy [emphasis on reasonably]. Why'd you write that we have a reasonably happy marriage?', he rephrased. I realized he was talking about this blog. 'What word should I have used?', I asked, making a mental note to myself to only write very nice things about him on the blog. 'How about ecstatically happy?' He suggests. 'Ecstatically?', I laughed. 'Well, maybe not ecstatically ....' he hesitated a nano-second. Then jokingly asks, 'Aren't you estatically happy?' [Note to self: don't laugh when husband says to describe marriage as 'estatically happy'.] 'I wanted it to sound more or less believable', I said. 'Would you describe our marriage as estatically happy?' I laughed again. 'You are messier than I am, by the way.' He suddenly gets to the point and says this as fact. I looked at him astonished. No he didn't just say that! [note to self: don't laugh a second time over the idea of an 'estatically happy' marriage]. 'Oh, I am? Who washes your clothes, who washes your dishes? You empty trash cans, but you don't clean.' Clever retaliation, don't cha think? I start thinking about the comments in the previous post, the ones about what we really think when we are mad at our husbands. Y'all know what I mean! 'Who mows the lawn? Who blows off the decks?' He says. Not regular chores I think, squinting at him in a feeble attempt at 'the look'. A completely wasted effort because he didn't notice it. The marriage is getting less ecstatically happy by the second. I can't tell you how this scintillating conversation ended. Something else caught our attention and it just kinda petered out. Sigh ... So, to set the record straight. We have an ecstatically happy marriage and I'm a bigger slob than he is. [read this dripping with sarcasim]. All in fun - Love ya hun.