The secret is a king-sized bed
GRIN # 57
Today is my 13th wedding anniversary. My husband and I dated nine years before we got married, since we were only teenagers when we met, putting our total time together at 22 years! That’s more than half my life. Cue panic attack.
Last night I thought of three things that have led us, if not blissfully, then at least methodically, to this fine day.
1. A King-sized bed: I know people who think a bed this big is “sad,” that it doesn’t promote cuddling. This is the best money I’ve ever spent. Jerry and I can each sprawl out and never touch each other if we don’t want to. It’s fabulous! When I was pregnant, I really thought I might divorce Jerry if he didn’t get off my damn side. The truth is I slept with a giant pillow and took up way more than my share. New bed: problem solved.
2. Quit yer bitchin’: We each learned pretty quickly that if we criticized what the other was doing, we could just go ahead and add that chore to our own list. Which is why Jerry has a cabinet full of hot sauces (for my cooking) and why a lot of times after he’s had kid duty I come home and step over legos, dog food, and bike parts without saying a word. Sometimes good enough is good enough.
3. Don’t try too hard: Yesterday, I was moaning and irritable that we didn’t do enough as a “family.” I get on this jag about once every three months, wanting to be more like other families who seem to do everything together, while my little family often splits in different directions. I wanted to go on a family bike ride, but Jerry’s hand was pretty much broken (don’t ask) and Tyler was playing with his buds. “We never do anything together!” I whined.
“Maybe not,” he said. “But we’re still a good family.”
Huh. Something about the way he said that made me breathe a little sigh of relief. We have fun. We love each other. What matters more than that?
I went by myself on the bike ride.
It was just what I needed.
Happy Anniversary, Pop!!