Redneck Filipino

Ah yes, I hope I never run out of things to say because if I do, just shoot me. I've mentioned in my "biography" that I'm married. I even mentioned the husband yesterday. Let me properly introduce you because it's not very nice not to.

He's a dad. He's a brother. He's a son. He's a police officer. He's an ex-Marine. He's a hunter. And finally, he's a friend.

Okay, on paper, he's quite the man. Ah, who am I kidding? In person, he's quite the man too. But with every man, there are some flaws. Some of them are cute. Some of them? Not so cute.

He's a great dad. His little girls have him wrapped around their tiny, skinny fingers. I feel kind of sorry for him sometimes because he's so whipped, it's sometimes pathetic. I've often wondered if I had a son, would I be as whipped?

He's a great brother. He has a sister and a brother. They are both younger so they look up to him. He was the first one to graduate high school. He was the first one to begin his career in law enforcement. He was the first one to get married. He was the first one to purchase his first home. He is the example of what to do. I'm sure it's quite annoying to them in a way but I'm also sure they appreciate them.

He's a very good son. His parents are a little tiring with their life decisions. They truly are great parents though. They love their kids like parents should love their kids.

And here is where we come to who he is. To be honest with you, I am sometimes confused at to who I married sometimes. Being a police officer, he's got quite the ego. Being an ex-Marine, multiply that ego by a thousand. Being a hunter, well, actually, this is the strange part yet so fitting. Here's a conversation to prove why it's fitting.

Him: Did you see that French guy ask Apollo Ohno for help when he slipped on the ice?

Me: Did he? (Yeah, I totally fell for this)

Him: Of course he did, the French always ask the Americans for help. Any minute now he's going to blame Apollo for his slip. God, I hate the French!

Me: Who else do you hate?

Him: Canada.

Me: Canada? Jeez, they're the most gentle country in this world.

Him: Exactly, they don't do anything for us. They're a bunch of wimps. I hate Italians too.

Me: Seriously, my question should've been who you don't hate.

Him: Oh, that's easy. I don't hate Australians. I hate New Zealand though.

Me: It's practically the same country. What did New Zealand do to you?

Him: They try too hard to be Australia.

This conversation could've been at least an all-nighter but I'll spare you anymore ridiculousness. The kicker here? He's Filipino! My husband was born here so he's really Filipino American but he's technically a foreigner....who hates foreigners. He's a freaking redneck!

Side note and a confession. I am also a redneck and damn proud of it. There is nothing wrong with being a redneck. Well....maybe a couple things but those are the rednecks we do not speak of.

So here is my husband. We've been together for over twenty years. We've been married for over thirteen years. He's a dad, a brother, a son, an ex-Marine, a police officer, a friend and a husband.

He's a redneck Filipino.

He is NOT my cousin though. I actually love Canada and New Zealand.

If I've offended you or expressed anything you don't agree with, don't worry, I'll probably do it again.