It was a small thing to get so upset over, but right before pouring my coffee I knocked over the mug and cream went everywhere.
You wouldn’t think a tablespoon of creamer could make such a mess, but it DID! Before I even reached for a paper towel, I heard myself yelling “Mike? Mike??? MIKE!!!”
My poor husband runs in to see what happened and I brashly snap at him, “I called you three times! The cream is spilling everywhere!”
Lke it was somehow his fault.
About a half a second later, I looked up to see his face – totally shell shocked. He didn’t want to make it worse by arguing with me, but, at the same time, he was innocent here. After I had a minute to process the situation, I started laughing and said, “I guess I just needed you to come over here so I could yell at you because there was no one else I could fuss at.”
When we were engaged, someone told me, “You better feel like you’re marrying a 10 because it won’t be long before they turn into an eight." At the time, I thought that was a terrible way for someone to describe marriage to a nearly newlywed, but, now, I kinda get it. Let me back up a bit …
My husband and I were set up by a friend, and she really knew what she was doing because we were engaged four months after we met. Everyone says “when you know, you know,” and though it sounds pretty cliché, that’s exactly what happened. At the time, our whirlwind romance felt like a fantasy right out of the movies. Mike could do no wrong in my eyes. I adored everything about him, and, when we said “I do,” I felt like I was the luckiest girl in the world to be marrying such a great guy – without a doubt, a total 10. Fast forwarding, we’ve been married almost nine years now, and I’ve learned a lot about what it means to share your life with someone. I used to think that being married looked like pure wedded bliss, all day, every day, and anything shy of Doris Day perfection meant you weren’t doing it right. Now, I know better.
Sometimes Mike gets the best of me, and sometimes he gets the worst. That’s life. I’m not very good at "putting my feelings aside,” and the same goes for him. I’m sure he’d love to be that perfect 10 on all 365 days of the year, but he’s human … so we’ll get into it from time to time. (Once, I was so mad at him I called him “Mark.” That was interesting). Even though our pros and cons list may have taken us down to an eight over the years, we've still got our "10" days, and I’m grateful he’ll still run into the room just for me to irrationally blame him for spilled milk.
Jordan Schupbach is a mother of three living in the Houston area. She blogs at www.lattesandliving.com - sharing the good, the bad and the frenzied.