One week away…

In just a week from today, my husband Charles,  and I will be celebrating our very first anniversary. Hard to believe a year has already blown by, but it has been pretty great.

I always thought the “it’ll be different when you’re married” saying was silly, but it isn’t entirely untrue.

Charles and I did have a few traits that surfaced that hadn’t since 2004, which is pretty astounding. But nothing that made either of us wonder “who did I marry?”, so that’s good.

One of mine was I apparently want things that aren’t mine until I have them, or once I have them I forget it wasn’t mine briefly after obtaining it. I realize that sounds bad for a woman celebrating her first wedding anniversary,  but this doesn’t apply to people or relationships. Let me explain with two stories.

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Forgetting it wasn’t always mine:

We always had our sides of the bed,  but he always took the side with the night stand.  I had wanted the nightstand side, and after I had my wrist surgery, he “loaned” me his side.

It’s mine now.  It makes sense. I have glasses, he does not. I operate the alarms, he does not. He only snoozes them. I have jewelry and such that a night stand holds so nicely…but I digress.

So the other night, he asked if he could have his side back. I was confused. I told him “that is your side”…at which point he reminded me of how I obtained it, which had slipped my mind. Oops.

**************
Once I get something…:

Charles always sat in the recliner on the right side of the couch, and I on the left. After a while, I started sitting in his spot when he wasn’t there. He asked me why I was there and not in my normal spot, and I said “I guess I just miss ya and I feel better in your seat. ” He accepted this, I moved, life went on.

The next time, he asked, and I said “this side is more comfortable” to which he replied “they’re exactly the same” to which I said ” the red recliner is blocking ny view of the tv there. Can’t you just sit in the recliner?”

Finally, he began sitting in the red recliner, and the coach recliner was now my spot.

Then,  one day, when he came home from work, I was sitting in the red recliner.

“No. Not this again. You always take my spot.” He groaned. “First it was my pillows, then my chair, then my side of the bed.”

“To be fair, that being my side of the bed makes sense…I have glasses and I set the alarms…and it’s more comfier!!” I chimed in.

“I would like my chair.”

“I didn’t even take your pillows. They’re the same ones I’ve always used since the night you got the new pillow.”

“I got the new pillow because I somehow ended up with all the flat pillows.”

(Skipping ahead…he had loaned me his fluffy pillow one night cause I had heartburn…and it’s been mine since. I totally took his pillows.)

So I gave him his chair back, then returned to my normal perch all pouty.

The next day, I was in his spot again. He asked why and I said “it has a massager and it’s comfier…”

“You just want it because it’s mine.” He said, sitting in my spot. He sat there the next night without complaint. And the next.

The following day, he came home from work, and I was in the couch recliner again. He laughed and sat in the red recliner and asked “so you’re back over there?”

“The red recliner is too warm. This one is more comfier…” I started to say when he shook his head. He knew where he would find me tomorrow.

He was right,  but since I’m aware of the behavior, I just steal his seat when he’s not there.

**************

Charles isn’t innocent in all this. He had his secret traits too that had recently surfaced. He can’t deal with one laundry pile. He leaves his shirts in the oddest places,  like over the shower curtain,  around a bed post, inside the cushions of the red recliner, behind the couch…it’s like an Easter egg hunt when I go to wash the clothes.

But there’s been positives. He is oddly good at washing dishes. Charles was surprised by me knowing how to bread chicken. I knew it before, but since I so rarely cooked before, I guess it was new to him.

Looking forward to more years of learning, loving, and infinite silliness.

Love you,  my fella!!

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