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Friday, March 11, 2011

The Man and the Fan

Things I like about a man . . .
When he gets caught up in his own stuff. When he's motivated to do the stuff he has to do and no one has to remind him. When he decides he has to change the ceiling fans, so we have to go shopping for them and I find myself staring at the ceiling at Lowe's without a single opinion in my head about fans. Just staring up and nodding and saying mm-hmm, I like that one, too.  Very modern in a traditional sort of way.  Then I hold the ladder and I know he's not going to drop a tool on my head like he did that first time I held a ladder for him. (A hammer.) I like his horribly baggy pants that fall while he stands on the top and is holding a screw driver in his mouth and the fan in one hand and he's trying to tell me something important like "whore is" or "hold this" and I'm so caught up in the way his laugh lines show when he purses his lips that I'm completely oblivious to the fact that he needs something - that he needs me to be a wife and partner and reliable and helpful. And I don't even apologize to him. I just keep it all inside and smile and watch him when he's not looking because it's important to me that I love him more than I let him see . . .

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