[part of an ongoing series.]
have a husband because at the end of a crazy day during which you were convinced your head would quietly implode from all the thinking and wondering and what-if-ing (not to mention the googling), he will make everything better just by saying, "hey!" when you walk in the door as if your coming home from work is the best thing that's happened to him all day. he will also have been thinking what you've been thinking for the last several hours—that it's not, by any stretch, a night to stay home and cook dinner. it's a night to go out for wings and beer and baseball. he will know the perfect place to go—hole-in-the-wall, good music playing, Yankees-Red Sox on the TVs. you'll smell the wing sauce before you even get in the door. you'll sit side-by-side at the bar and you'll swear it could be July—it's so warm outside and you're in flip-flops and drinking $3 drafts (who knew those still existed in these parts?) and you can't believe how good it feels to know that winter is really, truly over. your husband will make you laugh with stories about his nephew and he'll fist-bump you when the Yanks do something good. he doesn't even seem to mind that the Mets game isn't on and if that isn't a trait of a good man, you don't know what is. there'll be a point during the night when, as you're watching the game, you'll rest your hand on the back of his neck. almost an afterthought of a gesture, but you'll feel so glad just to be able to do that. because it lets you know he's there. he takes the "for better, for worse" as seriously as you do, and you know that when life feels like one big test—of your patience, your sanity, your goodwill, your inner-strength—he'll be there to pick you up. and that is a pretty amazing feeling. even better than watching the Yanks take two out of three from the Sox. which is saying a lot.
mbm
Posts
