Bloody Hell!

Husband and I have now been together for 10 years. We met in 1998 at UofM. Unbeknownst to either of us, we lived next door to one another on South U for nearly a year before we met. One night my housemates and I threw a party, Future Husband crashed said party on his way home from the bar. We were both wasted and ended up talking for over an hour on the front porch (I always tell him it was a good thing I was wasted cause otherwise I would have told him to beat it). A few weeks later, one of my roommates invited Future Husband to come out with us for my 21st birthday. Future Husband accepted the invite and showed up at my house at 11pm on July 30th, 1998. At midnight, we hit Mitch's, by last call I was wasted again and Future Husband ended up spending the night. The rest is history. It never should have worked, but here we are, proof that drunken hook-ups and putting out on the first date sometimes pays off.

Lots has happened in the past 10 years. We've both earned Masters degrees, gotten jobs, bought (and sold, hopefully!) houses, and have an amazing daughter. We're pretty damn happy and successful. The picture of perfection. In the past few months, however, it seems that Husband has a little secret. A dark side, if you will. Its come to my attention that Husband has adopted a new idol. And its not Lance Armstrong. Husband's new role model is a serial killer that kills serial killers named Dexter.

It all started when our friend Ana recommended we watch Dexter, a Showtime series that she was hooked on. Here's the premise from the Showtime website:

He'll charm fellow officers with a doughnut, wile away a Sunday with his girlfriend Rita, or chop up a victim and package their body parts in plastic bags. Hiding beneath the mundane exterior and contrived façade of Dexter, a charming blood spatter expert for the Miami Police Department, is an obsession with meting his own twisted brand of justice: stalking and murdering the guilty.

We cued up our Netflix with the first two disks and the next thing we knew, we were hooked as well. We watched the entire first season in a little over two weeks. Then, because we couldn't wait, we ordered Showtime and watched season two On Demand. Now, don't get me wrong, I love the show, too, but I started to become concerned when Husband started talking about Dexter non-stop. How cool Dexter was. How likable Dexter was. Dexter this, Dexter that. He even suggested that we name our future son (if we have a son someday) Dexter Morgan Ehmann. Ummmm...I kinda think it wouldn't be a good idea to name our son after a serial killer character, hunny. The fatal blow came when I woke up one morning and Husband was whining that he had been up all night. When I asked him why he mumbled something about thinking and worrying. Work? I asked. Nope. Biking? Nope. Husband was worried about Dexter. After a particularly gut-wrenching episode, Dexter had gotten himself into a sticky wicket and it looked as though he may get caught. Husband was so worried that Dexter would be apprehended by Johnnylongarmofthelaw that he stayed up all night, his mind racing with possible ways Dexter could get out of the jam, unscathed.

So does it worry me that Husband is idolizing a serial killer? Do I think that its the beginning of a mid-life crisis at 35? Do I wonder if he's really going on training rides and not hunting serial killers whom he will then serial kill? I don't know. But after 10 years of being together and 4 years of marriage if the worst Husband is doing is fantasizing about slicing "deserving" people's throats and living a double life like Dexter then so be it. It could be worse...he could be a Republican.