Bubblegum Pop

Right now, I’m listening to a conversation down the hall that has included the following phrases:

“guac, which means guacamole, which he really likes”

“it’s time to eat-eat”

“now that’s what you call makin’ dinner out of nuthin’”

Oh, I’m so not kidding. Anyway, so last night I was tired and grumpy. I decided that work is completely overrated, while possessing a debit card is completely underrated. I left the stack of bills and mail and torn envelopes on the kitchen table where they lay like confetti after New Year’s, and I ate a bowl of cereal followed by a bowl of ice cream. Then I left said bowl sitting on the ottoman and all the lights on in the den. Then I got ready for bed, crawled under the covers, and hollered as loud as I could for Brian to PLEEEEEEEEAAAAAAASE bring me a cat. (By which I meant for him to go outside, physically pick up a cat and bring it to my bedside.) He told me to wait a minute, which I wouldn’t do, then he got up from the dining room table where he was studying leverage and balances and other finance bullshit, and then went outside.

And then, when he brought me Lucy, when he walked into the bedroom and saw me under the covers with the remote in my hands with my lower lip poking out like it does when I’m pouting, he leaned over and gave me a kiss.

He gave me a kiss!

And then he said, “I love you, little girl, night night.” And then I melted. How is it that this man, this wonderful, loving, cute cute man, can love me back? I’m scared to ask the universe such questions, because she may then realize that I don’t actually deserve this man, and consequently take him away from me. Then I heard him pick my cereal bowl up off the ottoman and carry it to the kitchen sink.

Each day when I get home from work, I resolve to be a better wife – to actually do the dishes, or cook a meal. But instead, I see the warm loveliness of my chair and my blanket, and I can feel that resolve to be better in general slowly drift away into the world of New Year’s resolutions and diets. I’ll try though, Brian. I’ll try really, really hard to make it not completely unpleasant to live with me from now on. Promise.