10 Favorite Things

Blogging is therapeutic.  It's like a nice massage when I'm feeling stressed.  It's my Valium.  Figuratively speaking, of course.

My only problem is that I lack anonymity.  When I first started, I made the mistake of creating a "feed" not realizing exactly what that meant.  I'm just a weirdo who likes to play around with crap.  Often times I create huge messes, get annoyed, and move on.  Such is the case with my blog feed.  I can't turn the damn thing off!!!

My therapy sessions are posted to facebook every time I blog.  Every single, I've-got-to-get-this-shit-off-my-chest moment I have is poured into my blog.  Which, in turn, is spewed out into facebook land.  At first, I was cool with that.  Most of my blog friends are not official followers - just check out my minuscule fan club.

No, most of my blog friends read my stuff on facebook.  Because I can't turn off that damn feed!  Don't get me wrong; I totally LOVE that my friends read and <3 my stuff.  However, as my list of facebook friends has grown so have my blogging troubles.

Apparently, Mr. OCD's fan base is much larger than mine because he found out about my plot to withhold the goods this summer.  Remember my post about him not attending our daughter's preschool graduation??  Well, he did NOT go to the graduation so...well...  Let's just say, the stand off between Custer and Sitting Bull wasn't nearly as contentious.

Lucky for Mr. OCD, I have severe ADD and have trouble staying focused.  Anger is one of those things that requires a great deal of focus.  I just can't do it.

Consequently, I'm hooking up with Mama Kat at Mama's Losing It and borrowing one of her writing prompts.  (Another side effect of ADD - I ramble on and on before actually making my point.)  This, friends, is for Mr. OCD.  And his cotton-pickin' spies...


Although I love to bitch and moan about him and his inadequacies, Mr. OCD is actually one of my favorite people.  Really, he is!  I damn sure wouldn't have procreated with his ass if I didn't like him.

Lesson #1, girls who think they want a baby:  
NEVER, ever conceive a child with a man who has no job, no house, no car, or a bad credit score.  You're just looking for trouble.  And him when it's time to pay for the care of said offspring.

Oh, where was I??  Right!  My favorite person.  Mr. OCD.  Why is he my favorite person, you ask?

1. He puts up with my crazy ass even when I rant and rave about his inadequacies.
2. He is the best damn dad in the Western Hemisphere.  Really!
3. He takes care of me and my children.  He's chivalrous like that.  Call him Ward Cleaver, but he believes that as the man of the house he is responsible for our well-being.
4. He is a saver.  Thank God!  Both of us can't LOVE to shop.
5. He does not mind doing housework.  In fact, he'd rather do it himself than let anyone else do it.  That includes ME!
6. He is not afraid to tell me he's sorry or admit when he's wrong.
7. He knows EVERYONE.  By name!  And their parents.  And their parents' parents!
8. He is always willing to lend hand.  Need your grass cut??  Just give him a call.  Jim Bob's cousin's nephew's son is stuck in a ditch?  He's on the way!
9. He will eat anything I put on the table.
10. He plays with our kids.  He will have a tea party with our daughter in a heart beat!  He's not afraid.

My admiration for Mr. OCD is really immeasurable.  The list goes on and on.  Maybe I'll dedicate another blog to the rest of it.  I don't know.

I'm glad Mama Kat provided me the opportunity to share, though.  Accolades are not nearly as entertaining, but they are long overdue.

So here ya go, Mr. OCD.  You happy now? 

Oh, wait...  He's not reading this.  He thinks yahoo IS the internet.  He has no idea how to find my blog or facebook or google or porn.  Hopefully, his friggin' fan club members will at least convey my message.  It's doubtful, though.  I live in a small town.  Not only does Misery love company, she loves the company of other people's company.