SO...two wonderful boys, several miscarriages, thinner, fatter, sicker, healthier, sad, happy, murderous and joyful, a couple of dogs, a few cats, three rabbits and one spoiled rotten chihuahua later, we have gotten to the point where we like each other's in-laws, finish each other's sentences, know exactly how the other one feels and thinks, and I always know what he wants for dinner, even if I don't make it. It is a little creepy.
I have called him ten thousand foul names in 20+ years, but you know, he has never called me a bitch. Not once.
Sweet Lord, were we really this young? He is 21 and I am 19 here.