Among my many imperfections, I snore. Not as badly as I used to when I weighed close to three and one half bills, but I still do the nighttime growl from time to time.

I used to snore so loud that I would wake myself up. Go figure. If you go to the Mayo Clinic's website to get a definition of snoring they'll tell you that "It is the hoarse or harsh sound that occurs when breathing is obstructed in some way while you're sleeping. Sometimes snoring may indicate a serious health condition. In addition, snoring can be a nuisance to your partner." Duh! You think?

I'm still trying to figure out why Christine married me some 37 years ago. Counting the extending courtship, we've been together for close to four decades. It doesn't take a genius to figure out why I've hung on to her, but one has to question what she saw in me and why she's stuck around all these years.

It can't be my good looks. I have a set of ears that make me look like a taxi cab with the doors open. My nose is double the normal size for the average human being. My head size is half again that of a typical guy, the contents of which are about half that of a normal human being. I have hair everywhere on my body with the exception of the aforementioned head, where it is disappearing day by day. Hair club for men… here I come.

I have serious food addictions that I have had to address with bariatric surgery, and I still have to take the guy's word for it when I get my shoes shined.

My addictive behavior is not limited to my food intake. It transfers very nicely into other areas of my life that involve denial of responsibility every time I screw up and say or do something that I shouldn't say or do, which is multiple times per day. You can't do bariatric surgery on your brain.

Really, what did she see in me? She's an educated, Registered Nurse with her Bachelor's Degree; I barely finished high school. My kids accuse me of writing more books than I've read, which is probably true. Book number seven, "It's the Customer, Stupid!" hit the shelves earlier this year. To be candid, I can't recall reading seven serious books in my life, unless you call Nora Roberts serious reading.

I recently told my publisher, John Wiley and Sons, that I want to start writing trash novels when I formally retire. Fiction doesn't require as much research and documentation as non-fiction. My wife suggests that most of what I currently write is fiction. Go figure. I call it literary license and she calls it lying.

I told Richard Narramore, my Wiley contact, that I even have my new pen name selected for my romance novels, Norbert Roberts. You've heard me say in the past, "All I want out of life is an unfair advantage."

So as I rolled over after being yelled at last night for snoring, I thought to myself, she has to be nuts for hanging around this long and putting up with my many deficiencies. Perhaps she feels sorry for me. I can go with that.

Do you think it's my pleasant demeanor? I always look like I've been running a 100-yard dash in an 80-yard gym with a persistent frown on my otherwise ugly face.

Christine will say to me, "Why don't you smile?" I am smiling. I have one of those faces that hide my smile well. I look like I was weaned on a kosher pickle when I was a baby.

Just call me "grumpy," who happens to be the one dwarf I resemble the most. I have "Dopey's" ears and "Bashful's" way with women. "Happy" I ain't. I don't know enough about the other three- "Sneezy, Doc and Sleepy" to suggest there's any connection whatsoever. Just call me grumpy!

"Grumpy" was the most capable and competent of the dwarfs and he resented "Doc's" position as leader, often doubting his capabilities in the 1937 hit show "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs." He was always annoyed by "Dopey's" antics and "Bashful's" shyness and "Sneezy's" nasal explosions. Though stubborn, "Grumpy" has a compassionate heart, though he rarely admitted it. Perhaps that's the bill of goods my wife bought 37 years ago!