By him, I mean, of course, all three of them, but I'm talking specifically about the one in the middle.
Only he would put up with my weird dance moves, my life's a musical, sing it loud mentality, and my general bizarre-ness.
Only he would humor me by sitting next to me and watching a show that is ten years old.
When I quickly run upstairs in the middle of making dinner just to dial my home phone from my cell phone, only he would know that when he answered, I was going to ask for Joey's pizza. And only he would respond, "Wrong number," as though this was the most normal conversation we'd ever had.
Today, I discovered a pair of tweezers in my travel bag that I thought were supposed to be in my bathroom. I stared, confused, and said, "Did I go on a trip recently?" Without missing a beat he responded with something about Hong Kong and a covert op. Because only he and I, after cramming our heads full of Alias, are at least 0.0219% convinced that the other one is actually working for central intelligence.
Due to a series of ridiculous and unfortunate events, we ended up with an A/C company at our house on Friday, Saturday, Sunday and Monday. I told Troy today that I kept repeatedly sabotaging our air conditioning because it was the only way I could connect with my handler who was aliasing as an Action Plumbing, Heating and Air repair man.
"Ooohh. Good cover," he told me.
Because only he would actually engage in this kind of dialogue. Had I married anyone else, I think he'd have had me hauled into intensive psychotherapy by now.
My life is actually one big audition for whatever play, musical or television show I can think up in my mind. Only he would actually stay around, convinced that I'm perfect for the role.