The many differences between The Papa and I not only drive me crazy at times, but are the glue that holds us together. An example?
The Papa has always preferred a threek to a fork. Urban Dictionary defines a threek:
a three-tined eating utensil, similar to a fork.
"Look Mommy, this lady uses threeks instead of forks."
Our flatware is so old it looks like it came across the Oregon Trail. I've passed on several opportunities to get some nice, new flatware because there are no threeks in the set. Me? I use forks like the rest of the sane people of the world. When The Papa and I first co-habitated and all our books and belongings started to mingle, I remember how cute it was to see the pitiful little threeks in the silverware tray all stacked with the forks. They looked like little three-legged puppies. For a while, when The Papa was gone from the house, I actually missed them being in the drawer. I think their absence was a great reminder for me how much I need to get my "freaky threek" on in life. Without them, it was just all forks, all the time and you knew that when you reached in the drawer a fork is what you would get. Every single time. Life is so much sweeter for me not knowing if an occasional threek is going to be thrown into the mix.
Now, if I could just get him to put the toilet seat down...