Monsters Everywhere

My poor wife. She's a brave woman typically, but when it comes to roaches, her fear is... well, let's just say she could be a little more rational in this area. She's so practical, but when she saw the first roach in the kitchen, she wanted to drape all the furniture and fumigate the whole house. Another time, she asked if we could move. I told her "Sure. To the dark side of the moon. Where we would never have to see them again." Needless to say, she didn't find that funny.

Since that first roach, she's become much more brave, largely because she's had to. We've had more. But honestly, I kind of like it. Don't get me wrong, I hate seeing her scared (though it is funny at times). You see, when she screams, that's my queue to come to the rescue, galloping on my white steed (or slipping down the hallway in my white socks) with my sword drawn and ready for battle (or at least my Raid can ready to spray). It gives me a sense of manliness. More so, though, it proves once again why two are always better than one. Because whatever fear, weakness, or who knows what else we may face alone, when together in those moments you can let your mate know, whether with words, a look you mutually come to understand, or, in a case like this, a good loud shriek, that you need them. And that's what marriage is all about.