"One more?"

When we bought our PS4, the only thing that interested me was Netflix and Chill YouTube. And having to use the stupid PS4 controller instead of the traditional remote control to navigate, initially made me want to rip off the thin, short, pathetic and unhealthy looking hair on my scalp. "I just wanted to watch some old fashioned TV for Christ's sake! Why do I have to figure out what the square and the triangle and the X and the circle do? How do I go to the previous page? Do I need to set up a profile? Now, how do I go about doing that? This is too maach. I quit.", were the things I told The Husband on the phone while he was usually in a meeting at work. Because who cares about important work meetings when your pissed-off wife is in close proximity with one of your favourite things in the world? With time, some of The Husband's games began to catch my attention and I started helping him out with the maps and the treasures and the enemies and the guns and the ammo. I rejoiced when we won, screamed abuses at the enemy when we lost, and cried when things just got too hard in our little virtual world. Before I knew it, I was sitting with him, playing co-op games. I started scoring and shooting and killing and doing melee damage. I sat up late, just playing with him. I sucked at first but slowly learned that I can survive with a little muscle memory. And everything began to make sense. I shamelessly switched from the person who constantly complained about anything new and flashy that didn't immediately make sense, to the person who said, "One more?" when it was time to hit the bed.

All that talk about individuality? Pish-Posh.

Anyone who's been following this website for some time probably knows about The Husband's lack of patience for all things fiction. About how he never really read novels growing up and even when he desperately needs to follow a plot, he just gets me the books and sets deadlines for me to finish reading them. I'm the one who is entrusted with the responsibility of reading, abridging, and narrating the plot to him after doing my homework.

So when audible.com came to 22 Nelson Street, it began to gnaw it's way into The Husband's otherwise-stone-cold-book-unfriendly heart. At first, I just sat next to him while he played, listening to my audio book while reading the physical copy of my book along with it. With time, I stopped using headphones and listened to the book while he lay right next to me, going through his phone. On some days, I'd catch him paying attention to the book, looking at me like a puppy that had been denied it's evening snack when I later shut everything down to take a break. However, yesterday was different. Yesterday evening, while I was reading before bed, he climbed in without his phone and lay there simply listening to the book. Slowly, I found his head resting on my shoulder. Then, one hand began to support the side of the book that was closest to him. And when I was finally done with my chapter and decided to call it a night, he said, "Can we read one more?".

Tomorrow, on the 9th of February twenty-sixteen, when we celebrate 9 months of living together, the lesson we will take home with us is that once you start spending a considerable amount of time with someone, you slowly turn into them. Give us another 9 months and I will grow as tall as him and will start lifting 3 bags of groceries with my pinky while he shaves off all that facial hair and starts wearing make-up. I will stop using a nail-cutter and will physically bite off all my nails while he starts licking counter-tops and sinks after cleaning them. We're on it.

Because look at those smiles:

Even our teeth and smiles are beginning to look the same. And to think that I wasn't even born with good teeth!

Happy 9 monthversary in advance, my love!

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