Beau and me.
We just go together.
When I get a can of mixed nuts, I pick all the almonds out. He picks out the pecans, cashews, and macadamia nuts. (I don’t buy the ones with peanuts … just the “fancy” nuts are good enough for this family.)
When I eat steak, I cut off all the fat. Beau eats it.
I’m afraid of biscuit cans. He pops them for me.
When we share fajitas, I eat all the chicken. He eats all the steak.
He always needs my help moving large objects, like furniture and refrigerators. Of course, I am always there, ready to offer my muscle, without a complaint (cough).
I know a lot of songs. He knows more and knows all the correct words.
I like to sleep late on Saturday morning. He cooks great pancakes and omelets. Pure joy!
When I can’t remember something, I know he will … every detail.
When I see he’s about to lose his mind, I tell him to relax and offer my wise, calm counsel.
When we’re working on some project, we feed off of each other’s ideas. It’s great. I work so much better with him than alone.
Point being … we just go together. Although we’re total opposites, we’re exactly the same.
Would it be lame to say, “he completes me”? Uhhh … yeah … pretty much.
I love that man.
{Disclaimer: Don’t think there are times that I don’t want to give him a beat-down … ’cause there are. We’re by no means perfect. I’m sure likewise he’d like to muzzle me. But, honestly, we just enjoy each other’s company and we know what ticks each other off (which we would never do purposefully … never … just to annoy … absolutely not).}