The Bambi


Bambi II

Image via Wikipedia

She puts food in my face while I’m eating something else. She makes me massage her feet all the time. She loses it if I say anything bad about her Guess jacket. She says, “Up!” Impatiently while we’re lying in bed so she can burrow under my arm and lay on my shoulder. She takes my phone, my car, my laptop, my money, and denies it vehemently. She makes me help her with her homework. She cleans my ears with her pinky nails. She gets furious when she gets in a fight with her friends and I don’t get involved on her behalf. I have to ask her permission before I do just about anuything. She loves purple, monkeys, giraffes, nice clothes, hummos with oil, and Macy’s. She hates Americans, Blondes, onions, Jews, Christians, Muslims, and irritable people.  She calls the shots. She’s taller than me and talks like a 3 year old, a 13 year old, a 30 year old at times. She fights with me everyday. She’s the biggest miracle in my life. She’s my wife, my best friend, future mother of my children, the one who sticks with me through it all, my Bambi.

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