Martin and I kicked out the kids so we could sit on the couch — he with a hot caramel apple spice, me with rum and Coke (!) — and talk about our day, and plan ahead, uninterrupted for at least 15 minutes. An old habit of ours that we resuscitated earlier this year as all the shit swirling around us started making dents in our relationship.
Once again, this guy appeared out of nowhere to scrape my windshield, and once again, I participated in some sassy catcalling that may have alluded to him removing his outer layers. But this time, he flung open my door, leaned in to my face, and said something that puts him squarely on Santa‘s naughty list.
It‘s that time of year when Jack Frost wants to disrupt my morning routine, but then THIS guy shows up with piping hot coffee and forces me into the car with the seat warmer kicked on so he can scrape the windows quickly and get me on my way. I kept motioning for him to take his shirt off, too, but obviously, he ignored me. Maybe next time! A great way to start the day … fingers crossed this continues when it REALLY starts to snow!
Me: “Martin, smile for my webcam photo.” Martin: “I’m working on this quiz.” Me: “You look so handsome when you’re studying.” Martin: “Don’t you have an essay due in a few hours? Stop procrastinating.” Me: “Heyyyyyy there, college student! Say cheese!”
Today marks our 16th wedding anniversary. I say it every year, how it doesn’t seem possible that so much time has passed since that remarkable spring day, but that’s a truth that will never change, even if we do over the years.
This man is a machine. The past week has been intense. Driving here and there. Cleaning. Carrying boxes. Moving furniture. Painting. Repairing. Handling all the finances and endless paperwork. Digging out clothes and shoes and whatever else the rest of us need to get thru our day. Continue reading →
Just as my German class started this evening, a sharp-dressed man burst into the room to deliver a hot cup of coffee just for me. It was Martin on his way to his own writing class down the hall. I had to laugh when I turned the cup and saw the name on my beverage. Soooo true.
Anyone else have a significant other who absolutely refuses to take the necessary meds despite feeling miserable? I feel like making a certificate so that once he’s well again, I can present it and say, “LOOK! A certificate for your suffering. Clearly, this is what you wanted!”
I’m thinking I should make this certificate available for others, too. May even a create an “Amateur Nursing Achievement Award” for the one who suffered beside the patient.