The man that I've spent the last ten years with is, to put it nicely, an odd bird. He's tall, dark and handsome, has an I.Q. approaching genius and is one of the most caring, selfless people I've ever met. He treats me like gold and I could trust him with my life. However...he has a few quirks:
Forget trying to get him to pick up after himself. Before we met, he said it wasn't too unusual for him to just go out and buy some more clothes instead of washing the pile that collected on the floor. And his car! Loaded with all kinds of books, CDs, trash, clothes, etc. I told him it was like a giant purse on wheels.
Eating. He loves to eat. Anything with "ese" at the end of it preferably. Japanese, Chinese, he loves it. And at least one serving of spaghetti per day. He is half Italian. Unfortunately, a lot of it ends up on his clothes. When he gets home at night, I can usually tell what was on the menu that day. Almost all of his clothes have some kind of food stain on them. His current favorite outfit is a pair of camouflage cargo shorts topped off by a ratty gray and white striped tank-top. Yes, he wears this in public. Outdoors. And he will wear a shirt until it literally falls off of him. I kid you not, I saw it happen once.When he gets really sleepy, he starts to ramble, "Very sleepy..." and walks around the house like a zombie instead of going to bed. In spite of all these oddities, or most likely because of them, I still wouldn't change a thing.
Besides, he has to put up with me. And I'm no picnic.