Success! Why My Marriage Works

As I sit here feeling the jabs and kicks inside my protruding belly I'm convinced that dirty laundry is at the heart of my blossoming marriage to Ryder. I came to this conclusion at 5:30 am after I finished my cereal and began picking up my husband's nightly trail of clothes.
    
As I picked up his belongings I was baffled, not that he managed to leave these little articles of evidence in just about every room in the house, but that I knew exactly what he was doing and why. Last night, for example, it was the heat from the oven that caused him to
take off his shirt as he cooked up his homemade pizza, the homemade pizza which, incidentally, he made especially for me because I was really craving it.

The next item of clothing that crossed my path was one lonesome bluesock. It was left hanging on the second step next to, our dog Tucker’s favorite red chewy toy. I remember the day Ryder and I brought him home for the first time. He was both curious and terrified of our steps. The last thing we wanted to do was freak him out by forcing him to go up the stairs.

Instead, Ryder and I used the encouragement approach. We both egged him on to take the first step and applauded him every step of the way. While it took a lot of cheering and clapping he eventually made it.
    
Of course, I had no such luck as I made my own way up the stairs this morning. The only clapping I received was the slap of my face hitting the wall as I tripped over Ryder's brand new black Nike sneaker.

Thankfully, my face was the only area of my body busy colliding with the wall and I still had one hand free to catch the painting that seemed to fall directly from the wall into my hand. Even
though I pass this painting multiple times a day, it had been a long time since I'd taken the time to really look at it.