My husband is son of a, Anthology poem

When I ask him, 'Do you really love me'? He thinks and says, 'Sure I always say 40-love when I play tennis with you'. Whenever I come home happy after my shopping spree, He reminds me, 'Honey, Money does not grow on tree'. Whenever I need some help in household chores, He reminds me that his work domain is outdoors. Whenever he works outside the house, He moans and groans that I forgot my wedding vows. Whenever I complain of being TV. sports widow during leisure times, He wants me to be creative and pick up some hobby sometimes. When the hour of romance comes on the anniversaries, I expect gifts, flowers, hugs and kisses, Instead I get a flower from the garden reminding me of my marriage anniversary. Whenever I am dressed up to go the parties and want him to look sharp, He comes up with his favorite old shirt and baggie pants. When I am mad on him for not listening to anything I say, I think he is a son of a gun, what else I can say