Relationship are like puppies: They start off all cute and frisky and you can't get enough of their antics. But then they grow, and some days walking them feels like a chore. Occasionally they start to shed (weak reference to male pattern baldness) or act like a real female dog (weak reference to the B-word). But, at the end of the day, you love your stinky old mutt like crazy. Here's a tongue-in-cheek look at love's trajectory.
5 Months: You sneak out of bed to secretly brush your teeth, lest they should get a whiff of what has developed overnight.
5 Years: You're familiar with the full spectrum of their oral bouquets.
5 Decades: Even the most offensive morning breath is positive, because it signifies that s/he is still breathing.
5 Months: Neither of you has to do a #2. Ever. At least, you're not letting on that you do.
5 Years: A #2 doesn't even necessitate closing the bathroom door.
5 Decades: Every day starts with a spirited discussion of consistency, frequency and volume.
5 Months: "He snores? No biggie. I can deal because I loooove him."
5 Years: "IF HE SNORES TONIGHT, I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!!!"
5 Decades: "Wish this hearing loss had kicked in sooner."
5 Months: Sex happens anywhere, anytime and anyhow.
5 Years: The "sex window" is weekdays between 6 and 8 p.m., Boxing Day and alternating weekends.
5 Decades: The only hot blow you're getting is at the hair salon.
5 Months: You're looking for a one-bedroom apartment. Nothing fancy.
5 Years: You're looking for a four-bedroom house with a yard, a pool, parking for two SUVs, plus space to accommodate your 75-inch flat screen TV.
5 Decades: See "5 months."
5 Months: Your heart flutters the first time he calls you "baby."
5 Years: "Baby" isn't quite so romantic when she throws it into a sentence like, "Baby, you bought the wrong tampons! AGAIN."
5 Decades: You know each other so well that words are seldom used at all. Communication is a combination of grunts, snorts and telepathy.
5 Months: Marathon nookie sessions are standard.
5 Years: You're training to run a marathon together.
5 Decades: Chasing the grandkids around the house feels like a marathon.
5 Months: You're doing everything you can to not get pregnant.
5 Years: You're doing everything you can to get pregnant.
5 Decades: You're spending a lot of time discussing the fact that your teen granddaughter had better not get pregnant.
5 Months: Typical meals include: risotto soaked in truffle oil, craft beer and artisan burgers.
5 Years: Typical meals include: grilled chicken on a bed of dry greens, low-fat smoothies and Lean Cuisine.
5 Decades: Typical meals include: Metamucil.
5 Months: There isn't a position you won't try.
5 Years: Your routine is more choreographed than the six-thousandth performance of Chicago: The Musical.
5 Decades: Positions must be submitted to the doctor (with detailed schematics) for official approval.
5 Months: A great date is going to the country fair, like Noah and Allie in The Notebook.
5 Years: A great date is staying in with microwave popcorn and watching The Notebook.
5 Decades: A great date is being as in love as the couple at the end of The Notebook. Only without the dying bit.
5 Months: You fantasize about what it'll be like to be married and settled.
5 Years: You fantasize about what it was like to be young and fancy-free.
5 Decades: You reminisce aloud about both, often adding embellishments that you've pilfered from movies ("Grandson, let me tell you about the night I slept inside a Tauntaun...")
5 Months: Every milestone is well documented with a photo.
5 Years: Sometimes a newer couple that is documenting every milestone takes a photo of you and is kind enough to tag it on Facebook.
5 Decades: Why would you need a new photo? You've been wearing the same fashions and hairstyles for three decades.
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