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She Does it Well

In a monumental feat nothing short of crossing into the second trimester, D’s ankles have started to swell.  This is exciting for me (less so for her) because it’s yet another sign that we’re accomplishing all the normal pregnant things.  While I expected and hoped that would be the case, with each by-the-book symptom I’m impressed at how good she is at being pregnant.

She’s very good at other things too.  We were both tagged by love invents us to write ten unique things about ourselves and I thought I’d hand over ten things my wife is very good at so that she knows that I’ll still be in love with her even after she’s done being really awesomely pregnant.  First of all, she is very good at comforting.  She hands over hugs and reassurance at the slightest provocation.  They are quality hugs too, that’s number two.  She has a good strong grip that cuddles you without pinning you.  She’s very good at pinning me, which I like because then I get to giggle and squirm and feel utterly delighted.  For the fourth thing, she’s a superior guitar player.  I fell right in love with her.  She doesn’t believe it.  But it’s true.  She’s also a very good singer.  Not a choir singer.  Not a church singer.  Not a delicate arching soprano.  A throaty, sexy singer that hits perfect notes in a rollingly deep way.  Numbers six, seven and eight are mowing the lawn, drawing cartoons and cooking pork chops.  These are undisputable triumphs.  She is also very, very, very good at remembering when wonderful things have happened and finding an appropriate moment to remember and appreciate them.  That was nine and this is ten: she’s amazing at dates.  She is the best date putter-togetherer that I have ever met.  Last summer, we took out a hotel room, drove to Baltimore, had dinner at a sidewalk pub, saw a baseball game, ate ballpark snacks and stumbled the one block back to the hotel.  I watched the sun come up from a tiny crack between the curtains while lazing in a bed with perfect soft crisp sheets.  I wouldn’t ask for more.

And, since I’m about to lose all sense of identity once Vegas comes roaring in here (I really hope not, but I feel like it’s de rigour) here’s the ten things about me.
–I don’t dye my hair because my grandmother, who is 95, blind and lives on the opposite coast, likes it blonde.
–I love horror movies but I watch them on fast-forward.
–I don’t ever wear pajamas to the table.
–My bedside drawers have a huge variety of things in them.  Three kinds of chapstick, a bandana, books, a spoon.
–I had lunch on a white sand atoll in the Indian Ocean that disappeared when the tide came in.
–I don’t like to tell those stories but I’m working on it for my child.
–My grandfather never said he was Chicago mob but he also never admitted to being Polish.
–I prefer butter.
–If I don’t like a book I usually don’t finish it.  One page or 500 from the end.
–I can’t wait to be older – every year passes and I’m excited for the next.

By the way, what does your awesome partner do awesomely?  I’m always taking notes.


One Response

  1. What a lovely post!

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