This seems to fit you two to a T.
and after thinking some more about it. There is actually a few of you on here.
The Geologist’s Lament
by R.L. Frism
Gather ‘round me, hear my story,
I’m a rockhound in distress:
I’m a rockhound bathed in troubles.
I’m an outcast, more or less.
I have fossils in the kitchen.
I have crystals in the Hall.
I have min’rals in the bathtub.
I have relics on the walls.
I have oxides on the carpet.
I have oil upon the floor;
I have black light in the parlor;
I have bones behind each door.
Attic rooms are fairly sagging;
Flat rocks pave the cellar floor-
Pockets bulge with gemmy pieces.
All this and millions more.
Wifey thinks hat I am goofy:
I don’t know: she may be right;
She insists I’ve silicosis
or some horrid form of “ite”
Says my head is lined with agate
Claims my brain is just a nodule,
Says my heart has turned to stone.
Threatens me with separation:
Storms about our rock-lined home;
Says my life is just a geode
Or a hunk of mammal bone.
Are you rated as a fossil?
Or obliged to live alone?
How can you maintain a hobby,
And still have a happy home?
(Lodestone 1940)