Editorial: My Wife Has Been A Little Bundle Of Joy

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July 30, 2014 - Pasadenoids

When I was 26 years old, I was lost. I didn’t know what I wanted with my life or how to get there. And I would’ve stayed lost for the rest of my life if it weren’t for this little lady right here. This little lady saved my life. This little, tiny, no-bigger-than-the-palm-of-my-hand 6-inch woman.

I remember the first time I met you, honey. I’d gone for a long walk after I got home from the Marshrock factory. This is what I often did, just to wander and think, while my friends were out boozing at the local shot-and-beer-joint. I needed to think about why God had put me on this earth. And our eyes met as you came off the bus. And, right then and there I knew that this little lady – this brilliant, strong, intelligent half-a-foot woman – would be my wife. We started talking. Remember how clumsy I was when I tried to pick you up and, then, almost crushed you in the palm of my hand?  You were so beautiful. I almost got on one knee right there, but then decided it would be easier to talk to you lying down flat on my stomach.

Not a day has gone by since that hasn’t been touched by the magic and romance of my love for you. Remember when we went to the Statue of Liberty and you slipped out the nose pretending you were a booger? Or that time we visited Niagra Falls. I never had the heart to tell you this, but Niagra Falls was closed for repairs that day so I just ran the faucet in our hotel room and sat you by the sink. I think you knew about my loving trickery, but you pretended it was the most beautiful waterfall you’d ever seen. This gal, let me tell you, this little lady. This micro-woman – I’d be nowhere without her.

Well, I’m rambling. We have catered food. Hot dogs for my side of the family. Pigs in a blanket for the in-laws. Honey, why don’t you lead the way outside and show everyone the open bar? Honey? Honey! Tom, can you do me a favor and help me lift up the bottom of this couch?