Since it's not Joe's birthday or our anniversary, and even Father's Day is more than a week away, I guess there's just no real reason to gush about how much I love my husband. And it's really a bit out of character for me anyway. I'm not much of a public gusher.
But I just have to tell you about an incident that perfectly portrays one of the richest blessings Joe has brought to our life together and to me personally. He has taught me to laugh. I used to be of a somewhat somber disposition. Grumpy, even. Really. I used to get hollered at for pouting when I was just being normal. OK, probably some of the time I was pouting. But not every time, and that's my point. I was somber. And I still tend to be that way if left to myself.
When Joe and I were dating and newlyweds, before I had learned to laugh, I would get very frustrated with him and some of my girlfriends. I'd get a little jealous even at times. And the source of most of that angst was humor. He and especially my friend, Lisa, would get laughing about some totally silly thing. I either just didn't get it, or if I did, it never seemed to me to be nearly as funny as Joe and Lisa made it out to be. They would go on and on, until I often felt on the periphery of their fun and games. I even told Joe once I thought he liked Lisa better than me. "What would make you think that, Mary?" "Because you have more fun with her."
I think a person cannot live long with another person of silly temperament without some of it rubbing off. And oh, how much richer life is when it does!
Last night, after getting home kind of late from our Bergeson Nursery outing, we knew we'd have to rush to get supper on at a decent hour. Joe had some work to do in his office, so I went in to get started on supper. But, alas! The breakfast chores my kids were supposed to have done were not completed, and in fact they were barely started. There was a huge mess in the kitchen. I immediately got the bigger kids started with that, took care of a few little child matters, and then I dug in with the bigger kids on the kitchen chores.
When we were mostly done, Joe came home and asked what I had planned for supper. I said I had some chicken breasts thawing, but that I hadn't thought beyond that. I mentioned some left-over rice that I might heat up. But Joe, Mr. Connoisseur Cook, decided to take up the supper prep task. He made us a nice fried rice with vegetables, a minced brat for a little pork flavor, and pine nuts. On the side was broasted chicken breasts cooked with bacon.
It was all much fancier and nicer than I would have chosen.
But besides the fanciness, there was another bonus. We let the kids go, and I finished the clean-up chores while he cooked, so Joe and I got some good time together, just visiting and listening to the kids play, and doing our mutual tasks.
At one point, one of the kids called to another, "Are you ready?" and the second child replied, "Yes. I'm ready."
At this point, as often happens with us, we started in singing Barbara Mason's are you ready, complete with ooh-ooh-oohs and two part harmony. We sounded very fine. Then my Joe, always having to go one better, starts in with a dialogue featuring the voices of Bob and Larry and Pa Grape, of Veggie Tales fame.
"Hey Larry, why are we singing this silly song."
"I don't know, Bob, because we're silly?"
"Because that's what we do best. We sing silly songs."
It was so funny and fit exactly perfectly with the setting.
And that, my friends, besides a few other reasons, is why I love my husband.