Chris the Awesome

"Here," I said, tossing a dollar on the book Chris was reading, "I will pay you one American dollar if you will put the kids to bed."

He tosses the dollar back. "No deal. I'm going to sleep."

"Fine, then you have to help me put them to sleep. Do you want boys or girl?"

He takes the dollar back. "Boys."

"You don't get paid to help."

"Yes, I do."

Five minutes later we are getting into bed. "You were overpaid," I say.

"I don't know, I had to listen to Deacon tell me he hates me. At least I know where I stand with him."

"Don't worry. Tomorrow you will be 'the best dad ever.'"

"You may continue to tell me how I am sainted."

"You do put up with a lot," I say, "You're married to me, and I am super bossy. Plus, sometimes I can be a slight control freak. I like things done my way, you know?"

"No, I've never noticed. Continue on with my saintliness."

"You're the giver in this relationship. You give. I take."

"I'm the giver, huh?" Chris ponders this. "What do you give?"

"I give you happiness."

"So I give you everything just to have the opportunity to bask in your presence?"

I begin to giggle. "I didn't mean it that way."

"I think you did."

"No, I mean that without me you would be old and boring. I make you fun. And you would sit around the house moping and playing the martyr all the time. What would you be like if I wasn't constantly telling you to suck it up and get over yourself? You would be unhappy!"

"Alright, we're getting way off track here. We were talking about how wonderful I am."

"How about I blog about it? You're constantly begging me to blog about how wonderful you are."

"OK," he says, rolling over. He begins snoring almost instantly.

Let me tell you about that snoring. It was truly wonderful, amazing snoring, produced by a talented individual. It was, dare I say it, sainted snoring. Not every girl can be as lucky as me.