It began this morning with an innocent chat in the bathroom as we were both getting ready. I was rescuing the deodorant from Squish and moving it to higher ground when my husband said it. As he casually trimmed his beard, he asked “Did you get me any deodorant when you went to the store? WHAT? And that’s when I knew. He didn’t actually read yesterday’s blog. I know.
Marriage is about forgiving the little things. It’s about accepting one another’s flaws. It’s about knowing each other’s fears and insecurities so well that retribution is swift. And here’s how it goes.
My husband knew I was babysitting today. A precious little one year old. Cute. SO cute. Like, the Gerber baby meets Snuggle the bear kind of cute. Any time I come in to contact with one of those dimpled darlings in diapers, his worst fear is that I’m going to want another one. No matter how often I try to assure him that this shop is closed. And for this, I am grateful.
I have decided to encode each blog with a secret word. For each day that he does not greet me at the door with the day’s secret word, I will pretend I’ve got the itch for an infant. Baby fever. That babies are like potato chips, and I’m craving another. That my life is empty and has no meaning without another little one to love.
Too mean? Maybe. And today’s secret word is “Chickpea.” Game on.