I guess I have been married to The Hub for long enough for us to start to "rub off" on each other. I am aware that, merely because of my close proximity to The-Man-With-Sawdust-In-His-Veins, that I now know more than I ever needed (or wanted) to know about joinery, saw blades, refinishing techniques and what Real Men eat for lunch when they are On The Job. That kind of stuff is what I consider "standard" rubbing off.

And, of course, it has worked the opposite way too. By now The Hub is aware that Toni Morrison is a writer....

the difference between a cockatoo and a cockatiel and that Hans Christian Anderson was not, in fact, one of the Grimm Brothers. He also shocked the hell out of me the other day waving a discarded paper towel holder at the dog and yelling "Expecto Patronum!" at the dog. Presumably this was because I was watching a Harry Potter movie on DVD and not because he thought that the dog was really a Dementor....although it's also true that the longer one is married the less one is sure about ANYTHING to do with the other person.

But I digress.

The way to tell if you are really deeply affecting the other person is if they change the way the look at something because of having been around you. For instance, The Hub was a dyed-in-the-wool Republican when I met him and by the time we'd been living in Massachusetts for awhile he voted for Ralph Nader. (Don't tell his parents. They might disown him.) I was never big on certain types of "Classic Rock" until I learned to appreciate it from him. I also concede that his way of doing the laundry is better - though don't tell HIM this, or it's liable to give him a heart attack.

The other day, though, I had one of those "Ah-ha" moments when I realized that even my problem solving abilities had been affected by The Hub.

I have a wooden desk at work and it has a rough edge on which I keep catching my pantyhose, causing them to run.

"Gah! I've got to bring in a piece of sandpaper and sand this desk down! This is about the 5th pair of nylons I've caught on this thing!" I complained.

"Why go to all that trouble? Just put a piece of scotch tape over it."The boss said, looking at me like I'd sort of gone 'round the bend. I know that look. I used to give it to The Hub all the time when he seemed to be telling me some "over complex" solution to a simple problem.

My boss passed me the scotch tape. Worked like a charm.

Wonder how long until I join the Woodworker's Guild?