I'm a believer that marriage is a psychology experiment, and Wolf is the cheese eater. There's simply too much fun to be had when you put two adults from different backgrounds under the same roof and expect them to live happily ever after, amidst bill paying, child rearing and the other details of life. That, and I have a twisted sense of humour, and am rather easily bored...but just as easily amused.
Let me give you an example of what I mean...or rather, several examples.
Wolf and I tend to be on the sarcastic side of life (I know, shock, right?!) and tease each other. Every now and then, in hopes of rattling my chain, he'll spout off some sexist remark...and it never ends well for him. The last time he said something like that, I stared at him, and then sadly shook my head.
"Why do you say things like that?" I asked him sadly, "You know I can't let that go, that I'm going to have to get revenge on you."
His eyes widened, and he shifted nervously in his seat.
"And the thing of it is," I continued, "I'm smart enough to do something in such a way that you won't be sure if it was me getting you back, or just one of those moments...so you're not going to know if you can be mad or not"
His left eye started to twitch.
"And..." I said, giving him an evil smile, "Now that I've told you this...I don't actually have to do anything at all, because you'll be wondering and waiting for me to do something...and that's fine too"
Another example: Wolf made some smart remark just before supper. I waited until he'd eaten a bit and casually commented, "You know...when you tick me off, I spit in your food."
Fork froze halfway to his mouth.
I arched an eyebrow at him. "Didn't I? Are you sure?"
"Aww, c'mon! You didn't, did you?"
I gave him an innocent smile. He hates that.
Then yesterday, we're sitting in the yard, talking. He grabbed a cup off the table, took a big swallow, and made a horrible face.
The cup he'd grabbed was the cup The Princess had been using in the wading pool...along with dish soap I'd added for bubbly fun. He'd had a huge gulp of soapy pool water. Instead of being a loving wife, rushing to get him a drink of normal water or a beer or one of those exotic mixed drinks like a martini or with the little umbrellas...I sat and laughed like hell.
Poor Wolfie. See what happens when you marry the Non-Stepford Model?
*and before anyone has a hissy, I've never spit in his food. I have, however, spelled out curse words in mustard on his sandwiches.