My Wife Deserves a Medal

I am first to admit that being married to me, and Middleaged Mormon Man, is not always a bed of roses. Thankfully, if I forget that I can be a challenge to my EC, one of my loyal readers will gladly remind me.

Case in point: Wednesday night we were shopping at Walmart. I’m not a big fan of shopping. I pursue it with a “search and destroy” attitude, and pride myself for getting out of Costco with only the planned-for purchases. Browsing is not my thing.

I do understand that there can be a genetic pre-disposition to browsing. It is usually made manifest when shopping, but reaches its most fearsome levels in model homes. Oddly, this genetic anomaly is more prevalent in the female of the species, and it is wisdom for the rest of us to just accept it, and adjust.

The way I adjust is to distract myself. Where were we? Wednesday night. Walmart. While my EC was carefully searching for a yet-to-be-determined item, I found something to occupy my time.

Yes. I found a giant, pink, stuffed unicorn. As my EC wandered down the aisle, I busied myself in taking a selfie. It is possible that it was a once in a lifetime opportunity., so I was going to cross it off the bottom of my bucket list. Way, way down on the bottom of the list.

As my EC was looking at decorative pillows, (No, I won’t take the bait and turn this into a riff on women and pillows) I decided to distract myself further by posting this lovely picture on Facebook for all to see. This bought me some time.

During the rest of our shopping spree, I was watching the ruckus on my Facebook feed, and answering all the witty comments. I was enjoying myself as I walked up and down the aisles while typing on my phone. (Please not the irony here, as I often roll my eyes at people who walk around Walmart staring at their phones.)

I would put the phone away and be with my EC most of the time, but when there was a lull, or a checkout line, I would jump back into the discussion. It was lots of fun, and nobody mentioned how tired I look in the photo.

It was then that Kami gave me a dose of reality when she reminded me that my EC, “IS quite the sainted woman. I pray for her.” (Sainthood? Because I am playing with a stuffed unicorn?)

As much as it pains me to say it, Kami was right. My EC is quite the sainted woman. She puts up with a lot from me as a husband, but even more as a mildly prolific blogger. I figure I ought to point out when that sainted patience is required:

• Walking through Walmart and taking selfless with giant, pink, stuffed unicorns, which are then posted online.

• Geting bored in Michaels and finding ways to create MMM pictures, such as…

• Sometimes when she is busy with something, I will pester her for her full attention so that I can toss around an idea that I am thinking about, or to ask her opinion on something. At times, these moments turn into wonderful discussions, and are often enlightening for me.  At other times she finds herself rolling her eyes, or trying to steer me away from a proverbial cliff I’m getting ready to fall off. I highly value her opinion, and I know I rarely ask for it at convenient times.

• The worst times for her are when I am receiving pushback or “flak” for something I have written. It does effect me, but it also effects her. She worries about me, and, in those moments, she doesn’t have a lot of love for the blog. She has seen me lost in thought, frantically trying to resolve, or explain, or apologize for something that came across social media. I don’t read all the hate mail to her, but I do share some of it if it is good for a laugh.

• I do spend a lot of time on the computer, and have done so for a long time. She is patient with me. Now and again she’ll call me out on it. (For the most part, I write when she is unaware.)

• Mostly she is loving and supportive of this endeavor. She is a brave soul. I’m not sure she realizes how much power she has regarding the bog.

…Hang on – I’m gonna ask her: “Honey, do you realize how much power you have over MMM, that if you asked me to stop blogging, I would write a farewell post and that would be it?”

Her answer: “Yes, but I wouldn’t do it…unless it was causing problems.”

She’s a peach, my Chrissie. Anyone who knows her would say the same thing. She is sweet, and good, and patient, and wonderful. I don’t play the lottery because I already won it.

Does she deserve a medal for putting up with me? Absolutely.

A medal.

Sainthood.

An Oscar.

Exaltation.

And my eternal gratitude.

And maybe a soda. On my way, Sweetie.

 

 

 

 

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