It’s taken me nearly twenty years, but I’ve just realized that I don’t exactly have the ideal marriage. I grew up thinking that marriage was supposed to be like the Cleavers. Ward and June were always perfectly groomed, always supported each other, had intellectual conversations, rarely argued (and if they did, voices were certainly never raised), and had nearly perfect children. (Hmmm…kinda boring now that I think about it.)
I’d like to think that Shaun was being caring and thoughtful (as Ward would be) when he first forwarded the weather report that we were in for a heat wave this weekend to me yesterday. He was obviously letting me know what we were in for in advance so that I would be forewarned. Being a practical(ish) man, Shaun knows that one should do all they can do to prepare for bad weather….like…um…make ice cubes or something.
I started having doubts as to his good intentions when he mournfully carried on of how blisteringly hot it was going to be as he helped me haul a bulky fan upstairs. Suspiciously, I studied his face closely to judge his sincerity. Shaun seemed to be genuinely worried about my comfort so I chose to think the best of him.
When Shaun got to work this morning, he called to somberly report that he had heard on the radio that it was supposed to get up to 95 degrees today. I sighed then dryly asked him if he was enjoying himself. He couldn’t stand it a moment longer and burst out in a loud obnoxious laugh. “Yes” he said, “yes, I am!”.
That my friends, seems to be the cornerstone of our marriage. We mess with each other. Constantly.
If you had to pigeon hole us, we would never make it into the hole of Ward and June (nor would be want to) In my opinion, we seem to fit more closely into the mode of Lucy and Ricky…we’ve got just enough spice to keep things interesting.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go grab a few of those ice cubes I made last night…