My husband, Chris, is my hero for so many reasons. One is that he continues to hold my undying love and affection ever since our first date on Dec. 7, 1990. I don't think I like much of anything for more than a year so that is amazing.
Another reason he's awesome is that he always comes through for the family. He is everything a father and a husband should be. I know that is extremely mushy, but it's true so I don't mind putting it out there.
Now, I'll tell you something that I've envied about Chris for almost 23 years, but keep in mind that this is another attribute that makes him super-human in my adoring eyes: the man never falls.
I fall down all the time. I run into stuff and fall. I fall while walking on flat surfaces. I slip on wet or icy roads and fall. I fall standing still. Seriously, I might have some kind of issue.
So you can see why I'd look at this attractive, well-balanced man and think to myself, "Wow! I really chose a great guy to mix my DNA with. Hopefully our children will have a chance."
This was going great until April 21st of this year at 7:07 in the evening when I witnessed Chris, my Superman, fall down. That's right; he fell right in front of my eyes.
The setting was the living room and he was going to sit down on the couch. He had a beer in one hand and his bowl of pot roast in the other. He said, "I'm going to quaff this beer with my sup!"
I giggled because we were both reading one of the "Game of Thrones" novels at the time and it was a fitting statement.
He then asked as he was preparing to sit, "Doesn't quaff sound like you are just throwing it back?" He fell right at that moment.
He was fortunate to have fallen backwards onto his butt on the couch, but he will not tell you this. His version is that he began to lose his balance and he decided to sit down before he fell.
I laughed and immediately got out my computer so I could log the time and date. I titled the document "Day Chris Fell." It was that important, that rare.
It probably would have passed into memory, but about three months later, he fell again!
This time, on July 15th at 8:48 p.m., he again had a beer and a bowl of pot roast on his way to the couch. He stubbed his toe on the lounge chair part of the sectional and fell forward onto the cushions.
I'd like to state an impressive fact that on both occasions he managed to not spill either his food or his beer.
While I laughed and did not offer any assistance for his stubbed toe even though I am a nurse, I felt it was important to also log this fall to keep track of a potential problem.
His official statement: "I shifted my weight onto the backs of my hands so I could still hold onto my dinner. There was no falling involved. This is not a loggable fall."
I have seen this guy glide 40 feet across a McDonald's parking lot on a single greasy French fry without so much as a wobble of instability. If I say he fell, then he fell.
Just to be safe, he may want to steer clear of my pot roast.