Tell me how does it feel…how does it feel…to be (married to) me?

On a particularly spasmatic day of my life, I was running from audition to tech to a show, not allowing enough time in between.  These are the days my wife dreads, because I then call her to ask her for at least a dozen favors.

She bails me out, and before I hang up I realize that my life is probably about twelve times crazier than she thought it was going to be when she married me.

I pause for reflection.

“Becky, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“What’s it like being married to me?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes.”

“Well…my ear is sticky.”

“Excuse me?”

“There’s mango juice in my phone.”

That pretty much sums it up.

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