My Husband's Best Friend

There is another man in my life.

When Paul and I married seven years ago (on Monday!), I knew that I was entering a double covenant of sorts. The other man? His name is Jimmy. And he came as a package deal.

I met Jimmy when I started going to Campus Crusade for Christ as a college student. I don't remember the exact meeting. Possibly it was also the first time I met Paul, when I group of us went to the midnight showing re-release of Grease in theaters. At least, that was probably the first memorable meeting of both of them. I was not impressed either way. Paul grew on me over time...it was no love at first sight for either of us. He knows this. We're okay with it.

Paul and Jimmy, however, did not meet in college. They became instant friends while walking around the track in ninth grade. They were both fairly new to town, and they hit it off in all of their awkward early-teen glory. They have been the bestest of best-perfectly-besty friends ever since.

I like to compare them to a younger version of Grumpy Old Men. Paul would be Jack Lemmon's character. Jimmy would be Walter Matthau. Actually, personality-wise, I would probably picture them flipped, but Jimmy will totally look like Walter Matthau when he is eighty markmywordsbecauseGodisagoodGodfullofwisdomandhumor. They laugh. They eat. They argue. They wax poetically. They share. They really are pretty sweet to watch.

Here is the thing. Jimmy is like no one I have ever met. He is loud. He enters a room yelling, and has no volume control of his voice. He does not know how to whisper in movie theaters. He has no rhythm. He has a propensity of breaking up with or getting broken up by amazing girls. I think my heart gets broken every time, because I know that, should Jimmy ever marry, I will be hanging out with this girl mucho mucho while the boys watch baseball, go swimming, and play video games. I can't take the heartache anymore (two of the three girls read this blog...I love you more than you'll ever know). He eats popcorn on my couch and I am picking up popcorn between the cushions and off the carpet for days. He has a schedule that is more rigid than a two-by-four. He expects cookies to be made when he walks in the door.

Of course, here is the flip side. He is kind. He is a fiercely loyal friend to my husband. He is my friend as well. He loves my daughter. He loves my parents and has hung out there often. When he comes for special dinners like Christmas, he always brings a hostess gift. He writes thank-you cards. He can work a room like nobody's business. He loves elderly people. He will be a great elderly person someday. He calls his grandparents Mumu and Pampaw (they are real characters). He shows genuine interest in people during conversations. He does have a propensity to stumble upon amazing girlfriends (he just hasn't kept any of them, unfortunately). He loves Jesus. He is what he is...you get exactly what you get.

I knew when I got Paul, I got Jimmy, too. He is part of the deal. Happy anniversary, Jimmy. It's been an interesting seven years of marriage.