There’s a time and a place for openness and candor, but some things in life are just best kept to yourself. Case in point: Mom just freely admitted that Dad is her soulmate.
LOL, what?!? Why the hell would you admit that?
Moments ago during lunch, Mom casually let it slip that she considers Dad her soulmate, which is a baffling and embarrassing thing to say about a man who is unremarkable in literally every single way. Like, Dad isn’t a soulmate. He’s a schlubby nobody with a boring-ass job and a thoroughly average personality who keeps a bin of peanut butter pretzels on his nightstand to snack on. Not sure how anyone could look at him stretched out on his La-Z-Boy in ill-fitting sweats watching American Pickers and say, “Here is the one who holds the key to my heart.” No offense, Mom, but if you believe Dad is the guy, out of all the billions of people in the world, who God created you to be with, then God fucked you over pretty hard. Dad objectively sucks.
Seriously, really not sure why Mom would ever admit this out loud. Like, when she was a little girl, did she dream of one day growing up and being with a man who buys his pants from Costco, keeps a Tupperware bin of knee braces under his bed, and whose only hobby is collecting state quarters? Did she wish with all her heart that she’d find a man who regularly tries to get her to give him foot massages by putting his feet in her lap, wiggling his toes, and asking, “Need a gas mask?” Because apparently that’s her idea of a soulmate.
To be fair, at least Dad doesn’t cheat on her. He’s got that going for him. But that’s just one pro versus, like, six million cons. And, honestly, if given the chance, Dad might very well cheat on her, but we’ll never find out because there is literally no other woman besides Mom who will ever be attracted to him. Too much body hair.
Maybe Mom just sees past all his flaws, and that’s why she’s able to consider him a soulmate. But even if so, what would be the point in telling people he’s your soulmate? That’s not exactly something most people would brag about. It’s fucking weird. But whatever. As long as Mom’s happy, then it doesn’t really matter how pitifully low her standards are for love. You do you, Mom!