My Phillie's a Phanatic (And She'll Forgive Me for This Title)
Amy and I are married 10 years today.
It's nearly impossible to say how happy that makes me, and that that happiness is dwarfed only by my expectations for the next decades of happiness. For those of you who don't know Amy, you don't know what you're missing. But here's a brief, some might say odd, example, to help make clear her incadescent terrific-ness.
I'm a bit (cough cough) of a baseball fan. This means I watch a lot, read a lot about it, comb the internets for tidbits, visit Yahoo Fantasy baseball obsessively waiting for Justin Upton to post (and I got him!), blab on and on about it, even put up with Baseball Tonight just to view the highlights. Being married to me means having to deal with all that. Or maybe it doesn't--I know plenty of couples who keep their interests very separate, and sadder, some couples who do all they can to change their partner to be only what he or she wants the person to be.
That's not Amy at all. At this point she's listened, and watched, and actually paid attention enough I'd be afraid that if she did join my fantasy league she'd finish higher than I would. But it's better than that, for she doesn't do it out of obligation, she does it because it matters to me and that gets her interested, too. And an interested Amy is a fascinating thing. A few weeks ago we're watching the All-Star Game and she can't get over Aaron Rowand, who, admittedly, looks odd in the batter's box, from his lazy bat wiggle to his almost arched back. And then there's the faces he makes at bat, a cross between looking dumb and looking like he just ate a lemon (because he was dumb enough to do so). We share a giggle at him (not like the one Tony LaRussa and Albert Pujols shared, I'm sure), and the next thing I know, Amy's standing and doing a spot-on imitation of Rowand. We're both rolling in laughter, now.
And, 10 wonderful years into our marriage, I can think of nothing better to say about Amy than I love a woman who can imitate Aaron Rowand.
It's nearly impossible to say how happy that makes me, and that that happiness is dwarfed only by my expectations for the next decades of happiness. For those of you who don't know Amy, you don't know what you're missing. But here's a brief, some might say odd, example, to help make clear her incadescent terrific-ness.
I'm a bit (cough cough) of a baseball fan. This means I watch a lot, read a lot about it, comb the internets for tidbits, visit Yahoo Fantasy baseball obsessively waiting for Justin Upton to post (and I got him!), blab on and on about it, even put up with Baseball Tonight just to view the highlights. Being married to me means having to deal with all that. Or maybe it doesn't--I know plenty of couples who keep their interests very separate, and sadder, some couples who do all they can to change their partner to be only what he or she wants the person to be.
That's not Amy at all. At this point she's listened, and watched, and actually paid attention enough I'd be afraid that if she did join my fantasy league she'd finish higher than I would. But it's better than that, for she doesn't do it out of obligation, she does it because it matters to me and that gets her interested, too. And an interested Amy is a fascinating thing. A few weeks ago we're watching the All-Star Game and she can't get over Aaron Rowand, who, admittedly, looks odd in the batter's box, from his lazy bat wiggle to his almost arched back. And then there's the faces he makes at bat, a cross between looking dumb and looking like he just ate a lemon (because he was dumb enough to do so). We share a giggle at him (not like the one Tony LaRussa and Albert Pujols shared, I'm sure), and the next thing I know, Amy's standing and doing a spot-on imitation of Rowand. We're both rolling in laughter, now.
And, 10 wonderful years into our marriage, I can think of nothing better to say about Amy than I love a woman who can imitate Aaron Rowand.
Labels: amyversary
posted by George at 3:00 PM
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