The purpose for this post is two-fold.

Purpose #1: To dispel any rumors that I’m actually Going to Prison or planning for the day When I Die. I do want to be a very much alive and free member of society.

Purpose #2: To respond to WordPress’ Weekly Writing Challenge with a post that would “push my writing boundaries”. Pressing publish always takes a hit of courage. If posting Make Your Own Rules (Again) felt like posting a scantily clad picture, this one is a nude photo.

On this blog, I write about my experiences. My family. My ideas. Before I share any of these stories with the general public, my appointed Blog Editor—who is also the Love of My Life—reviews them.

Although I claim these situations as my own, there are moments when I gladly transfer ownership to my faithful Blog Editor. For example, after I pull half a dead rabbit out of Mack’s mouth, I explain what his dog did today. If snow piles up or the walls are making strange noises, I wish the deed was signed with his name. Unable to press rewind, he listens, attempts to solve the problem or informs me that my emotional reaction is ridiculous.

When I am proud (or stubborn) I use the words me, mine and I. When I am frustrated or upset, I say him, his and you. But when we are together, my selfishness and willingness to place blame dissipate. Things that were mine or his become ours. Our dog is naughty. Our backyard needs to be raked. I love us. Whoomp, there it is. We’re in love.