A Saint?

     I seem to have made a saint out of Jerry lately.  He wasn't.  He wasn't perfect.  He was just a man.  Of course, the best man I have ever known.  But, he did have some faults.
     He had a temper, known as the "Myers temper."  He could become mad faster than anyone (except for maybe my dad!).  He left the toilet set up.  Of course, he always said I left the seat down.  He let the door slam behind him.  My mother would not have allowed that!  He was a messy eater.  And he actually considered Velveta a real cheese.  He thought he could dance.  He loved Bob Dylan.
     So how could I stand to be married for 17 years to this mess?  Well, I was used to a hot temper because of growing up with my dad.  I let Jerry get mad because there's always the making up!  As long as I checked the toilet seat in the middle of the night before sitting down, who cares?  My mother never could get me to stop slamming the door.  We have the large economy size bottle of Shout to pretreat the food stains on clothes.  I love homemade macaroni and cheese with Velveta.  I can dance just like Jerry.  However, I do not like Bob Dylan!  I guess we weren't completely compatible after all!