All afternoon my head hammered with disputes over this and that indication of selfishness on his part. I did not want to feel this way. Every fifth sentence or so, I would turn to the Lord and tell Him He had to deal with me before I got home. I believe the Bible: that I must respect my husband in deed even when my feelings are out of line. But I wear my heart on my sleeve and he usually knows that I am struggling with something.
Spirits down, I drove quietly into the garage. He was hunched over his workbench. Opening my car door for me he said, "I have a present for you."
"You do? What is it?" I peered over his shoulder to see if this was some kind of a joke or something he had created. The echoes of my disputes laughed at me.
"I got you a BB gun."
And he had. He had picked up enough brass on the range to buy me my toy. So happy was I that I immediately helped him find a target and site in the gun. Purse, papers, and any news were forgotten in our spontaneous competition. Feet planted in my low heels and stretching my suit shoulders to their max, I shot at the bullseye with determination and concentration. The ultimate relaxation for me.
"I haven't eaten anything all day," he commented.
With a pang came the wifely guilt. "I guess this isn't getting dinner made--is it?" So we agreed that I while I assembled dinner he would set up the target in the hallway. After dinner we would compete. Before we dispersed to our tasks I planted a kiss on his lips that raised his eyebrows.
"You're happy then?"
"Ummhmm." So happy that all morning I have told anyone who will listen how thoughtful my husband is.
No comments:
Post a Comment