Personal flaws in marriage

 I love my husband. He's thoughtful, helpful, smart, caring, and all around fantastic. I've got it good, and I know it. He cooks, cleans, bathes kids, NAME IT. That being said, NO marriage is perfect. We both have our flaws (well, I don't. I think we all know how awesome I am. Just do me a favor, and don't actually ASK Dan. Let's save time, and assume I'm always right). The key is OVERLOOKING those flaws. Which, I think I'm pretty awesome at.
 This past weekend, my awesome stepmom and little brother came for a visit. For one of the first times since Evie was born, Dan and I had to sleep in the same bed. Yes, I usually sleep on the couch. Now, before all my awesomely feminist friends cry out, "Oh, HELL NO, make that terrible MAN sleep on the couch," calm down. I LIKE it. Our couch is super comfy. It is angled just right that it supports my back while I lay on my side, all snuggled up, nursing Evie. I sleep out there willingly, because she doesn't sleep through the night, and since she is breastfed, why make him get up, and be sleep deprived, too? Clearly, flawless wife-stuff right there, huh? ;)
 Whoa, I'm off topic.
 Anyways, we had to sleep in the same bed. I forgot what that's like. You're probably picturing us all curled up together, clearly in marital bliss.Come on, ya'll. HAVE YOU BEEN READING THIS BLOG?
 It was hell. I forgot that Dan snores like... Well, a person who snores really loudly. He also has this annoying habit of ending up laying diagonally across the bed. There's something even worse, though. Teeth grinding? Nope. Sleepwalking? Nope. Talking?? Nope.
 SLEEP FARTS.
 Holy shit. <--- See what I did there?
 Yes, sleep farts. My wonderful husband has, straight up, without question, the worst gas problem while he sleeps. Some silent, some loud, ALL toxic. He's the Master of the Dutch Oven. King of Stink. There's no other way to describe it. His gas has woken me from sound sleep. It's the stuff of nightmares. Do you watch, "Doctor Who?" Remember the episode with the creepy gas mask people? I wasn't creeped out. I was jealous of their gas masks, permanently attached to their faces. Such bliss!!!
 I'm not forgiving. Crap. A flaw. I'm here to confess publicly. To bare my soul to you all.
 Sometimes, when he lets a bad one rip, I'll kick him. "Whoops, sorry! Must have been dreaming!" Sometimes, I'll elbow him, "MY BAD!!" I've even been known to do the roll-over-and-smack-him-in-the-face-and-pretend-I'm-sleeping move. Before you all condemn me, IT'S TOTALLY OKAY. He doesn't mind!
 He doesn't even remember!!!!

 I'm a terrible wife. I try to make up for it, by letting him sleep. I can honestly say, even with new babies, we've never had the "who got more sleep" argument. I let him have his weekly poker nights with the guys, I try not to whine when he is watching ESPN, while checking his ESPN app on his iPhone and iPad ( WHO DOES THAT??).
 But sleep farts? I turn into Joan Crawford, bitching about damn wire hangers.
 Whoopsies.
 Sorry, Dan. Just go back to sleep, and forget you ever read this.
  LOVE YOUUUUU!!!!