Fruit in my dessert

anywhere

Yesterday afternoon, B and I had several minutes to watch a TiVoed episode of The Amazing Race. Okay, I watched the whole thing and he watched much of it while he took turns packing for his trip to SXSW, cuddling with me, and becoming the fifth member of a marching band in our apartment.

Over the years, B and I have often fantasized about being participants on the show. With my navigational abilities and his strength and agility, we would most certainly be top contenders - even (or maybe especially) if they revived the failed Family version of the show.

The couple that was sent home in the episode we watched yesterday was a grandmother/granddaughter pair. As they walked off into the rest of their lives, the granddaughter said, "so what's the next adventure?" to which the grandmother replied, "I'll go anywhere with you." I nearly cried. Okay, there were a few tears. Just a lovely unscripted moment on what I think is the best reality TV out there. It's also exactly how I feel about B. And, it's the best feeling in the world.

Maybe we should sign up to try to get on the show. We might need to wait a bit, unless they bring back an infant and toddler version of the show.

fuzzy math

1. Me = too hard on Me

2. B = too hard on B

3. Me = too hard on B

4. B = NOT hard on Me

Would like to solve all four equations, but trying to change #4 to look more like #3 has proved wholly ineffective. I really need to figure out the key to changing the #3 (and #2 and #1, and yes, in that order) so they all look like #4. Luckily, I don't think H figures (directly) into these equations yet.

And, for the record, this post has been in my head for a long time. This is not a current current event.

Counting the ways

Seriously. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but thank you for quietly being patient with me - over and over again. Today's topic: window coverings. You listened, looked, and responded to countless "if, then" scenarios over two different sittings in an effort to help me try to figure out which window coverings will be best when you don't really care very much which one gets chosen. And, somehow, you managed to keep a straight face when the final decision was to order several swatches of the version you would not have chosen in the first place. You know what not to say and how to not say it and how to keep me sane while I'm likely driving you insane, but you somehow stick with me, far after I'm done sticking with myself.

And, to cap it off, you suggested and made tea - with just the right amount of honey - for me at the start of our evening and delivered three cookies when I asked for one or two at the end, just because.

Thank you.

Electric Love Haiku

When you go away
A heating pad comes to bed
Me (feet) miss you much

Sometimes I miss

BH has a meeting tonight so he wasn't home for dinner, bath, or bed for HD. He was away the first two days of the week so he missed them then too. I'm a little extra tired, but okay and do love - even through the tired - doing the bath and bedtime story with HD.

Before HD, on a night like tonight, I would have worked late and left at a time that would have coincided with the end of BH's meeting. We would have planned out our schedules to meet up on a subway platform somewhere between where he was and where I was. If we weren't getting on at the same stop, the person who got on first (usually me) would try to be as close to the back of the train as possible and stand near a door as the train pulled up to the station where the other person would get on the train. There would be a moment of anxious anticipation: Will he be there? Will I have to get off and wait? Will he see me? As if we hadn't just gotten out of the same bed that morning. Our track record for meeting up was pretty good - although he did have to wait for me way more than I had to wait for him...usually at least one train went by without me on it. He never got frustrated with me for it. Then, on the train, he would pull out the NYT crossword and we would do it together on the way home. If it was Monday, there might not be much left for me to help with, but he would let me take it away from him so I could get my fill. We raced through it to try to get it finished by the time we got off the train. By the end of the week, and depending on how late we were headed home, not much got done on the crossword and we would drift into conversation about our days or the dreaded question, "What should we have for dinner?" Neither of us was ever good at answering that one. Now we're better at it, but only because we have to be.

Sometimes we went out to eat, but mostly we scrounged: fruit, cereal, pasta, takeout, leftover takeout. We'd plop down on the couch and watch a show or four and go to bed.

Sometimes I miss that.

Can you kill that bug?

Dialogue from the middle of a not-so-pretty argument that BH and I had the other night:

ME: There is a large bug crawling on the ceiling. Can you get it?
BH: What? Where?
ME: (Pointing) There.
BH: (Grabs toilet paper, kills bug)

Fight resumes. Intensity of fight resumes.

Is it odd that I found it very comforting in the midst of a pretty icky fight, that we could both step outside our nasty selves to communicate about something as small as a bug, particularly since I'm usually the bug-killer in our house? If only we had both been smart enough to use the bug as an "out" to end the fight altogether. That would have been way too mature.