As my wife and I near our 20th anniversary, I am left pondering how it has worked out so well. Like many couples, we have had our share of trials, but they have been few and far between. When in crisis, my wife and I tend to hunker down and pull together rather than pull apart, but that is not unusual. Many couples become brothers-in-arms when under fire or when there is a common enemy. It is what happens after the crises or between one crisis and the next that defines a couple.

I know that I can be a handful — my mother told me so for most of my childhood — but I've got strengths, too. In fact, I believe that my biggest asset may be my ability to learn. I don't mean to sound narcissistic, but I credit the success of our marriage to my trainability.

It took a while, but I learned that the sponge for the kitchen sink should be used until the pores turn into caverns and the soap flows through. Unless, of course, we have guests coming over, then we bring out the brand-new matching sponge with green and white daisies and stuff the old one under the sink. The old sponge is not so much retired as it is demoted. It is used for truly dirty dishes like greasy pots and pans so that we can keep the new sponge clean. When the new sponge is finally retired, the old sponge becomes the doggie bowl sponge and gets a beautiful "D" for dogs scrawled on its back. Whatever you do, do not mix up the sponges. That's a no-no.

Then there is the garbage. You see, there are three types of garbage: dirty, clean and dry. Garbage also comes in three sizes: credit card, magazine and shoebox. Let's start with type. Dry garbage can be put into any receptacle in the house as long as it is smaller than your wallet. If bigger than your wallet but smaller than a magazine, it can be put in the kitchen wastebasket; if larger than a shoebox, it must be taken outside. Clean garbage can go into the kitchen wastebasket, while dirty rubbish must again be taken outside. I must admit this was hard for me to learn. I always thought that garbage is garbage and that it's dirty by definition. I was wrong.

For the life of me, I can't see what the big deal is about the laundry hamper. I figure, as long as my clothes are in the vicinity, I am good. Evidently not. I remember one weekend my wife washed all the clothes in the house except for those pieces right next to the hamper. The next week I pulled out one of her bras from the hamper and put it on the floor; it got washed. Can you spell d-i-s-c-r-i-m-i-n-a-t-i-o-n?

My wife may tell you that it's the flowers-for-no-good-reason, or the handy home repairs, or even the candlelit dinners when our daughter is at a friend's house that keep her around, but I know better. I am teachable and I think that's why my wife keeps me around. In fact, I believe that if I were completely housebroken, my wife would tire of me. That's why I keep throwing my clothes on the floor. Pretty smart, huh!