Last night I dreamed a dream I’ve never dreamt before that featured the man that seemed to be the love of my life. He was sweet and kind and had two brothers and big family which I was meeting for the first time. His family loved me and he loved me and it was everything. I can’t recall his exact facial features but I know that his smile made me smile. I woke up too soon.
I don’t want to get into dream analysis or anything but I hope it is a sign of things to come.
Inspired by this dream, and Tina Fey’s “A Mother’s Prayer for Her Daughter“, I’ve written a prayer for my future husband… part humor – part truth,
First, Lord: may he have a job and friends he loves, hobbies, and a mother he respects or Respected.
May he always be kind, and funny and patient (with me).
May he understand that I would do anything for him as long as I know he loves me and doesn’t leave my side.
Sunday Football and fantasy sports are perfectly OK so long as Girls Night and excessive wine drinking isn’t a problem.
Lead him away from the temptations of 20somethings dressed half-naked at bars and clubs and bro-cations. Guide him back to me and constantly remind him of our love.
May he enjoy hanging out with my friends, have interesting things to talk about, and be OK with my borderline OCD, blogging, tweeting, day-drinking, and socializing.
Let him not be intimidated by Beefcake Central specifically. O Lord, let him not be intimidated by me. Let him know how to take control sometimes and take care of me.
May he enjoy traveling the world and not be confined to the state where he grew up. O Lord, let him have a non-expired passport and DRIVER’S license.
O Lord, break Snapchat and Instagram direct messages forever. May stupid females not tempt him with cleavage or duck face. For I will not have that shit. I will not have it.
That I may wake at 3AM on any given night and see him beside me, happy and content and in love.
May he be so in love and beside himself that he speaks of our love to his misguided bro-friends.
Give me the strength to learn to cook for us if he doesn’t cook. And if one day I don’t feel like cooking and choose to order take-out and he turns on me for this, let him feel a gaping hole of guilt in his heart for having upset me.