I married the Carpenter because he is the ying to my yang (that sounds inappropriate), the white to my black, the half full positive glass to my half empty negative outlook. Oh, and he’s cute (tool-belt included). After nearly twenty years together I keep hoping that through osmosis, or having to share a queen-sized mattress, some of his old-soul wisdom would naturally transfer to me.
You see, the Carpenter is a quiet man, partly because marriage to me means there is little room to get a syllable in. As a man of few words, when he does speak, there is usually profound wisdom in his words. He just knows stuff, as if Yoda is under his side of the bed whispering Jedi secrets, (which could explain some of the snoring). Whatever the problem, he sees the solution. If I’m ranting about something, he points out the real reason for my tirade and then puts the truth out there for me to further dissect. It’s like he just divines logic from the earth or something. Freak.