Pick The Nice Guy

Today is my anniversary, and for the longest time I never talked about my relationship with Big Daddy outside of my family and close friends. I thought that talking about my marriage in public would somehow jinx it. That fear was put to rest by my editor when she said, “Oh, bull%$#@! That’s some superstitious nonsense that locks people in fear. How are people supposed to know that a good marriage is possible if you keep yours to yourself? There’s already too much negativity in the world, you have something positive that needs to be shared.”

I said, “Sounds nice, but no thanks. I’ll keep my marriage to myself and just tell jokes. That’s positive!”

Of course, she was right. How are people—especially young people—supposed to know that a happy marriage is possible, if they never see one? My story is nothing special, I just picked that nice guy girls ignored—myself included—because he wasn’t a “bad boy.”

First DateBig Daddy and I have been married for seventeen years, but we’ve been a couple for twenty-four. We’ve been together over half of my life, and I can honestly say I was born to marry him. Being with him has been the only thing that I have done that hasn’t bored me. For as long as I can remember, I have always done something else, meaning I can’t do the same thing for too long or I’ll get bored. Or it’ll get on my nerves and drive me nuts. I’ve even had my doubts about motherhood. Being a mom is no joke, and it’s a lot harder than I thought it would be. Some days I don’t even think I’m doing it right. I just thank God every day for sending me kids I can work with.

I have never wanted to do something else when it comes to my marriage. I hit the jackpot where Big20150722_135503 Daddy is concerned. He’s such an awesome man, and he has always loved me. Since day one, I never had to be someone I wasn’t in order to get his attention. He just liked me, and I liked him… eventually.

Like so many people, I was a little on the dumb side when I was younger. Scott wasn’t on my radar when we were in college. My ideal man looked like Wesley Snipes, not Shug Knight. When I visited my sister at West Virginia University, Scott would always be around since they had the same group of friends. He was nice, which automatically disqualified him. He didn’t have a car, money or good fashion sense. For crying out loud, the boy wore hospital scrubs and cowboy boots. Who does that? His only redeeming quality, at the time, was that he played football and had a nice butt and long, muscular legs and really pretty lavender-gray eyes with gold flecks—not that I noticed. But I still had no interest in him.

I liked someone else on Scott’s team whose name I can’t remember, but who fit my guy criteria to a tee. He was dark-skinned and had a bunch of shiny, rippling muscle. He was Black Adonis in the flesh. I assumed he had money because he had a nice car, and he could dress. I wanted to go to the WVU football formal so I could get next to him, and that’s where Scott came in handy.

My sister pretty much told him he was taking me to the formal, and he agreed. I know that was trashy, but like I said, I was young and dumb. I learned quickly that the bad boy every girl wanted was too much work and not worth the effort. However… Scott showed me the time of my life at the formal, and he was the first boy to make me feel special like my dad used to when he was alive.

After that night, I didn’t need to go out with anyone else. But in true nice guy fashion, my future husband was a bit dense when it came to recognizing the clues that I liked him. It took him two weeks to get the hint, and he only got it because I sent him a birthday card. It was my way of saying, “Hello, stupid. You can call me.”

This was pre cell phones, email and Skype, so the best I could expect from a broke college student was a phone call or letter. But I got nothing. I later found out that Scott did like me, but wasn’t sure if I liked him, so he didn’t do anything. It wasn’t until his older brother called him a dumb@#$ that he jumped into action. By then I had already sent the birthday card, and the rest is history. It hasn’t always been an easy history, but it has been fun and worth every second. I am so glad I stopped being dumb long enough to forget all about the bad boy while the nice guy worked his magic.

And I really appreciate Scott saving me from marrying Wesley Snipes. He got locked up, and I don’t do jail.

Me and Big Daddy

 

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