Or the flowers if you will.
Last Friday night the hubbs brought home flowers. Let me tell you this is rare. Not the idea that he was thinking of me on his way home (ok sometimes that too), but the actual act of buying me flowers. It wasn't my birthday, or a holiday, and I hadn't hurt my back yet. He just brought home flowers. And of course I ruined the moment by saying "What were they half off", because it's a rare occurrence to get random flowers on a Friday night.
I've written some posts on him recently. Some posts about us and our marriage. I hope I'm not painting the picture of perfection. We are not perfect. Our marriage is FAR from perfect.
We fight. We yell. We sometimes say things we can't take back. We also love. We laugh. We say things that make the other spit out their drink. We are married. We are people. We are parents. We are human.
Recently we have been taking advantage. Of each other. Of time. Of responsibilities.
Then I read a post here and here. He read them too.
We both realized in our own way, that someone had to pour the first glass.
One of us had to forgo the first cup.
So he brought home flowers.
So I put down the iPhone. I shut off Facebook/Twitter/The Blog.
And we talked. Without yelling. With out tears. Without the usual foot stomping dramatics.
It was our first Ah-ha of 2012.
We stopped all the other distractions. The kids were asleep. The phones were away. The tv was on CNN (ignored).
We talked shop. Our marriage. Our kids. His job. My blog. We talked about outstanding issues with each other that still aren't resolved. I have some, he has some. Neither of us is perfect. Neither of us is to blame.
We talked about it all and what it meant to us. What it meant to our marriage.
We were nice.
We were loving.
We were kind.
And it was refreshing and re-energizing.
Because someone had to pour the first glass.
One of us had to forgo the first cup.
Because he brought home flowers.
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| I even made a pretty home for them. |
Megan
Linking up here
And also here
