Just Me and Him

I sat down and shut the car door.  The excitement of the anticipation and trying something new-made me smile and bounce a little as I waited for him to take his spot in the driver’s seat.  My excitement was temporarily halted when he finally got into the car.

Suddenly I reminded myself,  “Oh yeah… I was miffed (actually more than miffed but I can not bring myself to swear on my blog)  at him.”

My lack of appreciation for sarcasim, coupled with my annoyance of trying to interpret it and addition of no date night in too many weeks, months to count left me…

Pulling out of the drive way he turned to drive down our street, but stopped the car.  He looked at me and smiled as he held my hand.  All the pressures of motherhood, managing a house, interpreting sarcasm, nights of mismatched schedules instantly disappeared.

Suddenly it was just me and him…

We were two people in love with each other.

We were a couple in love without a worry in the world.

Our only requirement of the day was to hold hands, sit close, enjoy this amazing day and…

…gather all the reminders we can about why we love each other so very much!





You’re Right

An hour into our 1000 mile road trip east, my husband is finally at ease on the road.  While the girls are busy playing with their surprises (a tradition of a new toy waiting for them on their car seats on the day of  a long trip) my husband and I start to chat and catch up.  We talk about all the things that I packed, him quizzing me from his personal list in his head.  Like it would make a difference if something were missing at this point in the trip.   We share the events of the week.  His work related, mine about the girls and getting ready for the trip.  We talk about what lies ahead on our trip.  The conversation changes to a discussion as we run out of things to tell each other about our weeks.

“You know sometimes I wish you would admit that I am right and just let me have that!” he grumpily ends the discussion.

I look at him, smile kindly and say, “You’re right.”

I open my book and begin to read.

The jets soar.  Each passing one leaves the girls covering their ears and our stomachs shaking from their powerful jet engines.  Biplanes zig, zag, twist and turn performing maneuvers that take your breath away and make you giggle in awed delight.  The Thunderbirds make their last fly by, telling us that the air show has come to an end.  We leave the grounds smiling and sharing with each other our favorite part of the show.

“You know what I’d love to do next year?”

“What?” my husband asks.

“Next year we should pack sandwiches and put together a cooler.  You know, bring an umbrella and a blanket.  Have a picnic and watch the planes! I really loved watching the planes.” I say hoping he will be pleased with my embrace of an activity he is so passionate about.

“Oh, I don’t knowwwwwwww.  I really just like the Thunderbirds.”

“It would be fu-un. Sandwiches, drinks, blanket with a big umbrella.  We could sit, eat and enjoy the air show.  I really loved watching the biplanes,” I respond to his whiny tone with the passion of a used car salesman trying to make a sale and give him the smile of a wife who is trying to get something.

“I don’t know.  It is so hot.  All we do is sweat.  It would be like 90 degrees, like today.  I really don’t think being here longer would be any fun.”

Like a child who’s discovered their favorite toy has been broken I lower my head and frown.

“You’re right,” I sweetly reply.

“How come every time you say that lately I get the feeling you really mean  ‘Whatever… you don’t know!’ or ‘OK dumbass’?” he inquires.

Looking over my shoulder from my spot in front of him I smile and say with a shoulder shrug, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”