And in the last six months or
so, he and I have gotten into the habit of texting each other a couple of times
a day. Every work day, he is up and out of the house long before I am awake. And
although he has for the last couple of years left me a cute little note most
mornings, we look forward to these little missives back and forth each day. For
me they’re mostly a source of comfort, support, and tangible evidence of our
ongoing loving relationship.
Mostly, but not
always.
A week ago yesterday was my
birthday. I was kept busy—and gratefully so—most of the day thanking people for
their birthday wishes to me, posted on my FaceBook page. I had decided that
little writing would take place that day, but I do more than write every day.
Most days I say I’m multi-tasking, which is alternating between writing and
getting the housework done, and making supper. Now, you need to know that my
poor beloved is working long hours right now—from 6:30 in the morning until 7:15
at night, not arriving home until 8 p.m. There is no way I am asking him to do
any housework when he gets home. The only thing I do ask is that he waters the
plants once a week and takes care of the garbage containers.
I tell you this so that you
understand I am not a complete shrew.
But on my birthday last week, I
had a slight mishap and I dropped my very favorite coffee mug, one that had been
my favorite for several years. There are two cups in the house that I use for
coffee and call my own, but this was my favorite. The following is a
transcript of the text conversation between my husband and myself that followed.
Only the grammar has been changed—and it was his idea that I share this with
y’all.
Me: Okay day is now officially
fubar. I just broke my favorite coffee cup.
David: You should go lie down.
Then later we will have a funeral for favorite cup.
Me: It’s already in the
garbage. Please don’t mock me. I cried!
David: Maybe we’ll find a
sister cup at favorite cup dollar store. Which one did you break?
Me: The black one with white
polka dots. Dollar Store? Duh. No! Sears, maybe. Or Mary Maxim’s. It has to be a
bone china cup.
David: NOT THE BLACK ONE!!!!
(yes, friends, he typed that in caps with 4 exclamation marks). Ooooohhhhh. Is
the ugly other one ok? You could look on Amazon, they have
everything.
Me: You’re still mocking
me.
David: Xoxoxo!!!!!!
Me: Kisses and hugs aren’t
going to get you out of the big dung hole you’ve dug yourself.
David: Ahhh, but I love you and
I gave you flowers. I know we will find a new cup together and then it will be
special.
He went back to work and I went
back to my computer. You know how they say that women have to have the last
word? It’s true. Here’s the text I sent him about a half hour later.
Me: You were right! They have
lots of fine bone china mugs on Amazon. Thank you for buying me the pretty white
one with whimsical colorful horses on it. 1 mug, 44 dollars. Would have bought
the set of two for 15 dollars....but you mocked me.
And while I may have the last
word, my beloved often proves that he is a very smart man:
David: I hope the coffee you
drink from it is most excellent.
But then, he does sometimes
have a habit of snatching defeat out of the jaws of victory:
David: See how much help I can
be? Aren’t you glad? (I wasn’t sure if he meant glad it all came out well, or
glad he’d mocked me. Likely the latter.)
Me: Look down at your feet. See
the thin ice you’re standing on? It may be in stealth mode, but it is
there.
David: I won’t even touch the
new very expensive MUG. I don’t want to be held accountable for it being broken.
(Meaning: he won’t get me my coffee in the evening. An empty promise because of
course he will).
Me: Don’t worry. You can always
buy me another...and another...and...well, you get the idea.
David: Did you name her
yet?
Me: And yet, you mock me still.
I am beginning to think that HE might get lonely. Perhaps I should get another
right now.
David: Xxoo
Of course, I didn’t order an
additional new one. Or perhaps I should amend that to say, I didn’t order an
additional new one—yet.
And lest you think this was a
serious discourse, we each knew the other was laughing throughout—though I
really did order that 44 dollar mug.
Love,
Morgan
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