My nano-pod went swimming. No kidding, right through the wash cycle. Earlier, like, 6 months ago (may have been longer) my crackberry went swimming. No kidding, right through the wash cycle. Both times, my beautiful bride was doing the laundry so I’m assuming she tried to save them. This isn’t even worth getting too upset over because they’re just electronics and temporary gadgets in my life. But again, my truly wonderful wife was doing the laundry so I can confidently assume she tried to save them; but on the very very off-chance that you didn’t try to save them, could you please check the pockets???
Check the pockets, honey - I said to her. She replied: …oh, no. I am not taking the fall for this. You check your own pockets. If you’re putting clothes in the laundry room basket for washing, I’m assuming that the pockets are empty. Verbatim.
Like The Fresh Prince, I wanted to plead my case!!? but apparently I lost before I started because after a much shorter conversation than I was rehearsing in my head, she flashed the palm of her hand in my face and never said another word about it. What? I told her the palm in my face routine was way 80's. In my dumbfoundedness I realized that she didn’t hold her palm up in my face. She flashed it. Like a quick wave almost. Almost like she waved me off. More of a shush with her hand. Yeah, she shushed me with the simple wave of her hand in my face as if the words that were coming out of my mouth were meaningless.
I'm fine with taking the blame for this and I don’t for one second entertain the thought of having any serious words about it, but how do you not check pockets before putting them in a big tub of water? It’s almost like taking your clothes off before you jump in the shower, right? When I do the wash, I always check the pockets. Always. I don’t know what might be in there?? Now, admittedly, I’m checking the pockets for money and if I find that money, I don’t utter a word. I put it in my pocket and get coffee the next day. We’re not talking hundreds of dollars here. We don’t have hundreds of dollars in our joint bank account let alone hundreds of dollars clinging to the lining of our pants pockets that are now washing away in the laundry machine, but, I do find enough pocket change for a bean burrito with no sauce and no onion from time to time. Or a Venti, dark roasted, house coffee.
I'm not gonna bust her chops or put up a wall. I'll tread lightly. Shoot, I’m not even close to mad at her. She’s my wife. She’s the only woman I would enjoy going through life with and I’m fortunate enough to have that very opportunity. She does so many things that I don’t even think about. She has a wonderful trouble-making 5 year old boy named Cole whom she adores. And now with our baby girl Lily, she finds more room to consider both of those kids’ feelings and well-being with every word she says, every thought that runs through her mind, and every decision she faces. It’s amazing. The amount of care she holds for them and still finds enough care to care for and love me.
It helps that we agree on the fact that our marriage comes first before everything else. If we can manage to keep our own relationship strong and bonded, we’re confident that the strength of our bonding and love with our kids will be far greater than the strength of even Samsons hair.
She’s unlike anyone else I’ve ever dated, or married thank God, and I try not to make it a habit to marry too many people. We tease a lot when we’re at home and even though I was the main contributor to her pregnant-brain the last nine months, I enjoy watching her rapist-wit slowly return.
I once heard the phrase - A woman's heart should be so hidden in God that a man has to seek Him just to find her - and at one point in my life I would have brushed that off as some sort of Navajo mambo-jahambo (anyone know what movie that’s from?), but now… I believe it with every fiber. It took me well over 30 years to seek Him, and after I committed – Heidi came along. As if planned.
Try it.
I hope she never tires of me. I’ll never tire of her. But please check the pockets.
