Right now, I’m listening to Loo and Doodle attempt to roll their father (my husband, J) into the kitchen so they can stuff him in the trash (this is what we do with our free time).
All I can think of is how much I love my husband. While I listen to the boys debate the merits of pushing from the side versus pulling on his legs and he just laughs.
Who else would just lie there and see how close they get to stuffing him in the trash? (They’re 5 and 6 and J is rather large, so it’s the unreachable goal, but they’re determined.)
And I think of how wonderful being married is. Clearly there’s a side to mine that is miles away from any greeting-cardiness.
And there he goes, off the side of the bed.
After the drama of the other day, I’ve really been examining the weight and the depth of this marriage thing. I’ve also been realizing the amount of work it entails.
My husband and I share the bond of our children, our mutual admiration, our humor, our quirks. Unfortunately, the bond is more fragile than I believed it was – just days ago – and it needs a lot of care.
Yes, yes, it’s like a rose. And I’m like a bird. And you’re my butterfly, sugar, baby.
But, really, I can no longer let my marriage rest on the fact that we “get” each other so completely. I can no longer take J’s honesty for granted. I will always be on the lookout, from now on, for the next shoe.
In the light of all of these revelations, there is still no one else in the world I can trust like that man. No one else who can make me laugh as often. And no one else who would brave the possibility of going in the garbage can.
And for today? that’s enough.