My Boy

I saw this on my sister's mother-in-law's blog and thought it too cute not to pirate.  Thanks, Debi.  :)

Name: "The Boy," although for some reason, everyone else calls him "James"

How long have you been married? 3 years

How long did you date?  11 months to the day, including engagement.

How old?  He's 2 1/6 years younger than me.  He digs the "older woman" thing.

Who eats more sweets?  I do, hands down.

Who said "I love you" first?  He did.  (Upon reading this, he replied, "I did?")

Who's taller?  He is, unless I'm wearing heels, which he encourages, since he also digs the "taller woman" thing.

Who can sing better?  Photo finish, but I'd have to say him.  Sexiest bass voice you'll find in a white guy.

Who's smarter?  Again, it's a toss-up.  Let's just say that we're going to have darned smart kids.

Who does the laundry?  He does, almost exclusively (he just started a load).  Whenever I start a load, he has to wash it again a few days later because they never made it to the dryer and have soured.  On the other hand, I'm pretty AR when it comes to folding, so I usually at least fold my own clothes.

Who mows the lawn?  Our apartment manager (ha ha).  I tend the small container garden on our back patio, but that was my idea in the first place.

Who cooks dinner?  If it's one of us, usually him, but we love to cook together.  Cooking is our second favorite thing to do together.  ;)

Who drives?  Usually him.  After working as a home health aide for two years, I'm tired of driving.  Also, my driving makes him nervous, so he volunteers to drive even in my "girly" car.

Who is more stubborn?  He's too easy-going to be stubborn, and I'm too absent-minded.  Ask again in twenty years.

Who kissed who first?  He kissed me first.  Of course, given that it was my first kiss in almost three years (mission plus a date-less post-mission year) and he'd just gotten off of his two year kissing-celibate mission, it was without a doubt the worst kiss in the history of our relationship.  Of course, we've gotten a lot better with practice.

Who asked who our first?  I'd have to say that I initiated that one with "Do you want to give me a reason not to move to England?"  Straight out of a romantic comedy, if only we'd been at the airport with my flight being announced over the intercom.  Needless to say, he did.

Who proposed?  He did (of course, I told him to).

Who has more siblings?  I do, but he has more nieces and nephews.

Who wears the pants?  The Boy made me say this: we each wear one pant, becoming the greatest three-legged-race team of all time.  (Of course, since he made me say that under threat of nipple abuse, I'm not sure I believe it.  You'd think with this "older, taller woman" fetish, he'd be okay with a domineering woman.)