This post is from Jon Deal from Ransom Note Typography. Thank you, Jon!

The reasons are, of course, legion.

Here are just a few…

I promptly do the dishes whenever I’m reminded, “When was the last time you did the dishes, Jon?”

When my wife would beg to have more kids, I would ignore her pleas for a while (maybe even a year or two!) so once I finally relented and said, “Let’s have another kid!” like it was my idea all along, I totally sounded like a hero.

I encourage her to try new things, like fixing the brakes on the van.

Whenever I’m in charge of getting movies to rent, I rely on my excellent taste in film to help me choose: Weekend at Bernie’s, Empire Strikes Back or Fletch.

Though my wife’s smarter than me, makes more money than I do and has an advanced degree, I am positive that my depth of knowledge of useless Macintosh trivia counts for something.

I often point out how she compares favorably to all the hot women I know or dated in the past. “Yes, they were all very hot women, babe, but I chose you!” (ed. note: There have been no other hot women. I tend to live a rich and detailed fantasy life.)

When I fish around for compliments by forcing her to read my writing and pestering her with questions such as, “That was funny, huh?”, “You see where the joke is in that one, right?” and “Didn’t you like the way I worded my obsession with Jennifer Aniston this time around, that was clever, huh?” I’m always a very courteous listener.

Whenever she is sick, I get sick, too. You know, sympathy symptoms. And when I moan and snuffle and keep her awake, I am always very sorry about that later, after I am well.

I have the best reasons why I haven’t done all the yard work I should have done ages ago. To wit: I can’t find the yard in the midst of all the weeds out there, I lost the keys to the shovel, or—my favorite—I was busy doing something else.

I look very sexy when I dance around in my underwear and jiggle my big ol’ white belly fat. It’s hard to resist, trust me.

When I stay up all night dinking around with my pathetic scribblings I call writing (i.e., right now), I type extra quietly.

But the MOST important reason why I am the BEST husband in the history of all husbands ever to have walked the face of the planet?

I sit down to pee.

Every. Time.

So I’ve got that going for me.

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