His socks are never in the right place. He taught me how to do laundry, and then seemed to forget where the washer is. He's loud, aggressive, and embarrasses me at least once daily. He always says what's on his mind, which can be a scary thing.
And...
He wrestles with the kids. He and Jet have this thing where they sit on each other's head and fart. He cooks dinner, washes Kimber's hair (she won't let me because I get water in her ears), and handles the majority of the discipline situations.
He plays tag at the park with Jet & Kimber...really plays tag - like, gets up off the park bench and runs around giggling like he's 8. Yesterday, his dad didn't call and he didn't get mad....even when he found out that his father had accidentally sent his brother a birthday card instead of him. He makes me laugh...not just me, but everyone in the room. He says what everyone's thinking. He may be loud, he may be aggressive, but he's honest, real, and he's not trying to impress anyone.
In light of the education he's pursuing, his newfound self-description is "a misanthropic recalcitrant". What many people don't know is how much of a softie he really is under that hard shell. His professors love him, and the other students can't believe he's, "Almost 40!"
He knows how to straighten my hair, how I take my coffee, and what perfume I'm wearing.
I'm glad he chose me.