With the official month-to-Valentine’s countdown on, there’re going to be a lot of floaty hearts and cupids whizzing around. Fantastic if these shades of red and pink do it for some couples, but I’ve discovered the real secret to marital success–at least my marriage success. For us, there are two careful components to keeping that wedding band twirling around the ring finger: respect and room for numbers.
You see, about a year ago my husband became obsessed with bee-keeping. OBSESSED. I have many, many, many thoughts about this. Many thoughts. But since he reads every single one of my posts (check that good guy!), we’ll leave it at that for now. As this interest morphed from a potential hive-keeping project 15 miles away from our home to researching how to get the best queens for a band of buzzers in our very own backyard, unusual items started showing up in our Amazon cart. Things like: Mann Lake HD620 Steel Frame Lifter and Scraper, 10-1/2-Inch and Flexible Light Strip 200 SMD White LED Ribbon 5 Meter or 16 Feet by Ledwholeshales, 2026wh. What is the common denominator with these products (aside from the fact that I don’t understand how a single one of these things could be useful?). NUMBERS. They all have these abstract numbers integrated in their title, usually with some bonus letters to boot. This makes me want to roll my eyes more.
Except…then I began dabbling with some of my own numbers. It all started with a rather significant fascination with Urban Decay’s 24/7 Glide-On Eye Pencils. I blame Frugie for this. The thing is, these eye liners are the bomb. And I love them. And there are numbers in their name (albeit ones that are easier to understand than those identifying the goods for this crazy bee-keeping jazz). Mmmhhhh…
And then I snagged a table through my online yardsaling group. I am majorly crushing on this table. I have no idea what I will use it for. I have considered jewelry or legos or some unknown crafting project that I will suddenly dive into with a bizarre fiery intensity. In any case, I am BEYOND THRILLED to be claiming this table.
But then I had to tell my husband about it. See, as online yardsale purchases go, I basically have free reign. Since I always make sure that I am bringing in more than I am spending out, Dr. J doesn’t usually have any objections. However, as a general unspoken rule in our marriage, furniture purchases typically merit collective approval.
I broached it cautiously, “I found a really cool table.”
He gave me that amazing blank stare which translates into, “I am terrified, but don’t want to offend you.”
“It’s 3′ wide x 3′ deep x 18″ tall.”
He remains speechless.
“We can do so many things with it!”
“Maybe a lego table for the kids!”
“How much was it?”, he ventures.
“It’s solid pine!”, if I speak in exclamations, it has to sweeten the prospect, no?
You see, this is an example of numbers. And giving them room. While his numbers make no sense to me, they matter to him, so I give him space to love on them. And more than space, I actually need to get on board with some respect. They are important to him, so they need to be important to me. He might not get my table and it’s quirky dimensions, but I’m over the moon about it, so he’d better work up a good squee over the whole affair.
So for Christmas, in a very symbolic show of solidarity, I got him a bee-keeping book along with a special freebie: I am vowing not to say anything negative about his new love. Ever. Crap this is going to be hard.
In the meantime, I’m going to work really hard on controlling my eye rolls. And I’ll let you know if I ever figure out my purpose for my perfect-to-be table.
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