My husband is in Korea and Tiger Woods' transgressions are on the front page. Even here in stuffy Britain where the slander laws make it more difficult to print gossip, Tiger Woods was on the front page. Sigh. Let me be very clear. Tiger Woods' life is not "news." His life is not even "sportsy-newsie-kinda?-maybe?" It is gossip and if his life is going to take up even an ounce of my life as I try to find the news in the newspaper that is filled with his gossip, I feel obliged to offer what I would prefer to weed thru instead. I am, afterall, not above bringing solutions to problems like Tiger Woods' gossip in a newspaper. I would like a journalist to celebrate someone like my husband in their newspaper that is filled with gossip. Please permit me to gossip about my husband:
I find him to be good-looking. At least, better looking that Tiger, though I do know that to be personal opinion. He is, surely, handsome enough for the front-page of a newspaper that prints gossip.
When he's not working overseas, he comes home every night. He doesn't find excuses not to come home even on days when we're all in terrible moods. He comes home. Every night. The first question out of his mouth is, "How can I help?" He gets that parenting is 24/7 and he's still a dad even though his work day is done.
He is a fun guy to try new things with. He likes exploring. He is a safe person with whom to learn. He does not lose his temper or crash cars. I am proud that he does not make an obscene amount of cash swinging long sticks in the air.
He has found his family in every storm in which we've been lost - real, imagined, or existential in nature. He can multi-task better than I can as he often has time to take a picture during such storms.
I find him to be good-looking. At least, better looking that Tiger, though I do know that to be personal opinion. He is, surely, handsome enough for the front-page of a newspaper that prints gossip.
When he's not working overseas, he comes home every night. He doesn't find excuses not to come home even on days when we're all in terrible moods. He comes home. Every night. The first question out of his mouth is, "How can I help?" He gets that parenting is 24/7 and he's still a dad even though his work day is done.
He is a fun guy to try new things with. He likes exploring. He is a safe person with whom to learn. He does not lose his temper or crash cars. I am proud that he does not make an obscene amount of cash swinging long sticks in the air.
He has found his family in every storm in which we've been lost - real, imagined, or existential in nature. He can multi-task better than I can as he often has time to take a picture during such storms.
He's a helpful sort. He tries to find a way to balance all of our needs. He catches us when we slip.
He is a good giver of piggy-back-rides.
He never lets us fall.
It's easy to do absolutely nothing much with him.
He shares his triumphs and his defeats with us. He's not chicken to own up to exactly who he is. He doesn't need a press conference, cameras, or threats of lost sponsorship or a lost marriage or lost relationships with his children to confess his faults.
He lets us hang on to him when our moods are questionable.
He not only loves his kids, but he likes them. He takes the time to find out their individual interests and follows their leads. He listens. He knows who they are without my mediation. He is patient and even puts together telescopes when suffering from jetlag. Bad days at work are not bad days at home. Hear that, Tiger? Print that, "journalist."
