There are very few times in my married years that I have felt opposition with dear hubs. So few, in fact, that I can almost count them on one hand. And I must admit the reason they are few is because of him. You see, he is a passive, Mr. Slow and Steady kinda guy. He goes with the flow of life, not letting a whole lot of things get him ruffled. Let me rewind to "The Beginning"...
The year is 1996. I'm 18 years old and ready to take on the world. He's 24 and already taken on the world and is ready to just settle down. We became friends one night over a sink full of dirty dishes. I washed, he dried. (I think that's how he first lured me in...he deceptively led me to believe he was a dish-washing kinda guy.) And in those ten minutes of washing and conversing, I knew there was something about this fella that I liked. (And no...it wasn't his dish pan hands.) After spending a few months learning each other and batting my eyes at him, I knew I was smitten. Everything within me urged, "Tell him! Tell him!" So, one evening while sitting deep in conversation I did. I gave him the "l" word. And then I waited ever so patiently for him to proclaim his immense, overwhelming, uncontrollable love for me in return. And all I got was a "I'm just not sure yet." Dang. Unrequited love. Oooooh, the pain. The shame. The humiliation. Fortunately for me, I bounce back easily. And I bounced back more determined. He was now my project. I WILL make him fall for me..someday....somehow he WILL be mine. I was not to be deterred. Fortunately, he came around. But I won't lie and say it was quickly. We went through a whole "I'm in like with you" stage. I guess you could say he was "pre-in love"? Gosh, a girl could get a complex. I patiently waited to hear those words. I batted my eyes more. Gushed in his presence. And finally, one day, it happened. The stars magically aligned, the sun hung just right in the sky and all of life stood still when he finally proclaimed his love. Sweet heavenly bliss. There were invisible fireworks in the universe for me. All of God's creation rejoiced.
The story pretty much repeated itself 3 years later. We were wed, and my maternal instincts told me it was time to ponder procreation. I presented to him the fact that my ovaries were whispering sweet nothings to me. He needed more time to consider the possibilities. That's my man. Mr. Slow and Steady. Never jumping to any one decision without first weighing out the facts and possibilities. Thinking things through logically rather than emotionally. Oh, how I cherish this about him now. It used to drive me absolutely insane. I thought I was married to the most indecisive person on the planet. I've now come to understand and appreciate his realistic ways. Heaven help us if all our decisions were based on me and my emotions. I love his passivity. He would have long ago sent me packing if it wasn't for his enduring patience. Love that man. (And, obviously, he came to his senses about having children..hence the past three.)
Which brings me to my original story. Opposition with my hubs. First time was when I just wanted him to love me and....he didn't. Second time was when I wanted a baby and....he didn't. The third time was over a leather jacket. I know. Seems so trivial when compared to matters of love and babies. But it is what it is. Er, was. This man of the slow and steady breed does not like change a whole lot. He enjoys the same routine; meals at the same times; sleeps in the same bed under the same roof for as long as his wife will let him. And wears the same leather jacket he did from Junior High. Even if it's hideously out of style. Short of the story: let's just say about 8 years ago, I was doing some spring cleaning; ol' leather jacket was getting dusty in the closet; and Goodwill called and asked if we had one. (Okay, so maybe the last part I made up...but I will say that I thought there was someone in the world who would have benefited from that jacket.) I had some bags all packed and ready to go sitting in the garage. One evening hubs was searching frantically for something. "Honey, have you seen my leather jacket?" "Ummmmm....let me think a minute." (Hand to forehead while I weigh the consequences.) "Noooooo." The poor guy. I let him search a while longer until my conscience just couldn't take it any more. I told on myself. He wasn't upset...a little shocked, but not upset. And we have a good laugh about it now. I haven't been able to lie to him again. Not even a little white one. But I did so desperately want that leather jacket to disappear.
And now...onto the fourth. Which so happens to be the most recent. This past week we were at one of our favorite shops...the thrift store. There's just way too many treasures in these stores. Hubs happened upon a used video game chair. Which was not all that bad in and of itself. A minor little rip of the leather on the top, but it was passable. Until we paid for it and propped it in the van. It was then that we realized a horrible aroma being emitted from the thing. The whole van wreaked of stale, nasty cigarette smoke. My children smelled of smoke. They were even asking at Taco Bell if other people would wonder if they smoke. (I informed them that most people realize that 9 and 10 year olds do not smoke.) I cannot think of too many smells worse than this chair. But hubs seems to like this chair, and I thought, this too shall pass. So, I washed it, sprayed it down, and welcomed it in my home. That was 5 days ago. It STILL wreaks. My girls hair STILL smells like smoke. I have even made them lay a blanket over the culprit. I'm pretty sure this chair hates me, and is not going to stop emitting this horrible smell. No matter what I try to cover it up with. However, hubs and the girls don't seem to mind. They happily plop on it, play a game or two...and when they're done, I'm left hauling it back to it's corner (for a time out), calling it choice names all the while. It's not my favorite chair. I think I'll name it "Ol' Stinky". I don't think I can sneak it into a trash bag for Goodwill. And I don't think the rest of my family would be happy with me if I did. So, I will silently protest this new addition to our family.
Oh, yeah, Ol' Stinky...your days are numbered.
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