The reasons I adore Michael are abundant. I wouldn't have walked down the aisle and promised him the days when I'm wrinkly and grey-headed if his qualities didn't mean something to me. Out of all the things that impress me about him, there is one quality I have always admired about my better half: knowing exactly what to say with complete honesty.
Now with that said, honesty doesn't always mean "without comedic value". Michael is the clown of the two of us, using his humor simply to get a rise out of me in just about any situation.
When talking about proposals: "Wouldn't it be funny if I bought your engagement ring at the flea market?"
When discussing why he should always wear his seat belt: "But Baby, you know I'm worth more dead than alive!"
When telling him I wanted a vacuum for my birthday: "I love how you can't help being square."
The humor tends to catch me off guard, Michael knowing full well that his responses (although genuine) are not what "normal" people would say. Blinking, stunned, and lacking quick wit to match, I am without ammunition to strike back.
On rare occasion, Michael knows when to use words of a more serious nature. He offers reassurance when I'm tense or feeling broken. He is completely supportive of my goals and even the tiniest of successes. With our current situation in trying to conceive, he has peppered our conversations with jokes and innuendos. Yet, I know he's right there with me, enduring the stresses of the we-didn't-know-getting-pregnant-could-be-so-hard process.
From the years of occasionally hearing very serious words from Michael, there is one that thing he said just yesterday that has me wanting to catch his words and lock them in a pretty little wooden box so that I might open it on one of those rainy days for a little pick-me-up:
"You know, I've always said I wanted kids because it would be nice to have someone to teach and share what you know with, yadda yadda. But now, it's more than that. I feel like something's missing. Kids are what we're missing."
This branched off from our dinner-date conversation about politics, bills, and stupid people repopulating the planet. Not wanting to ruin the moment with overly sentimental or typical female emotion that would force Michael to shroud his serious side in comedy, I verbally agreed and let him continue to lead the conversation. His words, albeit silly with his "yadda yaddas", were perfect morsels that, if they were actually dark chocolate candies, I would have devoured every one.
Yes, wives have many reasons to love their husbands. Mine just gave me another reason to love him.