I type my husband a message on google chat while the baby naps. He’s at work, but he responds right away.
Me: Where’s your brown coat? I’m sewing buttons back on your things for our cotton anniversary. :-*
It is a poly blend
I laugh out loud at this man and his funny way of viewing the world. It’s funny to me- to him, it’s normal, and I’m the funny one. He’s matter-of-fact, detail-oriented, literal. It’s hard to say whether he’s a good engineer because of how his mind works or his mind works this way because he’s an engineer. He’s a good match with my propensity to use made-up words, waving my hands around to convey my point. “You know, the thingamajig.” I’m grateful that after two years of marriage we are coming closer to the place where we are completely comfortable with each other. He can laugh at me and say he has no idea what I’m talking about. It’s okay. (I mean, usually. No one’s perfect.) We are alike in the important ways, sharing values and dreams and ideas about house floor plans, but the differences are often what make us a good couple. We balance each other, like twins on a see-saw.
Once upon a time, we marched around Bed, Bath and Beyond at 10pm shooting wedding registry items with our scanner gun. Soon we were in a huffy silence, tears threatening to spill down my face, because he loves down comforters and I think quilts are the coziest bedding choice. I remember wondering, with the desperation of someone about to say I do, how we would manage in life when our opinions were strong and opposite. Time has shown me that the answer is always balance. Give and take.
And sometimes, buy both the comforter and the quilt.
Happy second anniversary, honey.
An experiment in free writing, linked up with Just Write.