Saturday, February 21, 2009

Love Letter To My Wife

By Bub

I love you more than The Daily Show with Jon Stewart.

You’re more beautiful than any woman I will ever be with sexually, that is to say you’re first in a three (wo)man race.

You’re honest with me about my flaws, even when I don’t ask your opinion on the subject.

I really like it when you color in a coloring book, not with our three year old daughter Iris, but just by yourself for fun. There’s something really sweet about that.

When I was in high school the only thing I knew about you was that Joey Puentes told me you bathed in a tub in your back yard. I thought that was hot.

It makes me feel better when I get agitated after reading too much into an innocent gesture and you pretend to have been malignantly motivated in order for me to save face.

I am glad that you don’t make fun of me for looking at maps in my free time.

I like that when I paint with Iris you tell me my painting is really good even though hers is better.

I am grateful that when I have the temerity to explain to you how you aren’t being rational (even though most of the time you are), you don’t punch me in the face.

I am thankful you pretend to care when I tell you about the fascinating linguistic and cultural diversity of the Caucasus region or which Australian Senator supports the National Plan of Action to Eliminate Violence Against Women, or that I learned to read in Arabic but don’t understand any of the words.

I am amazed that you can’t stand fruits and most vegetables and gave birth to a child and remain in great physical shape, when, I became a vegetarian and gained 60 pounds.

I love the fact that in the time it took me to read the short story ‘Ward Six’ you read two full-length novels.

It humbles me that wherever on the planet we go to people gravitate to you and you make lasting friendships while the majority of people I have befriended in the past five years have been homeless, mentally handicapped or illegal immigrants.

I implore the God I don’t believe in every day that she wont let you realize that you’re too good for me - too kind and strong and funny and smart and not obsessed with podcasts, olive oil and Norm MacDonald, though you gracefully indulge me in all three.

As Sonny Bono said while skiing to his death into a tree at South Lake Tahoe, “Happy Valentine’s Day!”


  1. Anonymous8:32 PM

    We prefer home-impaired, not homeless.

  2. Haha, James you're the illegal immigrant.

  3. Shannon6:12 AM

    Although he is unaware of it, Nathan would like lessons in writing endearing and poignant love letters such as this. Can we make arrangements?