Stop, Drop, and Kiss
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A typical evening at five o'clock in our house would find me cooking dinner ,my two small daughters desperately inneed of a bath, and my ears perked, awaiting a magical sound — the garage door opener. This was the blessed signal that my husband, Pete, had arrived home from work. Yes! I'd think, mentally pumping my fist.Reinforcements!
As he came through the door, I'd give Pete a choice: "You want to make sure the rice doesn't boil over or get the girls in the tub?" And that was on a good day, when he walked in smiling.
If he dared to come home dragging and tired.…Well, game on, buddy. Get ready for the Exhaustion Olympics."Oh, you would not believe the day I've had," I'd groan. "I did 14 loads of laundry, went to the grocery store, the post office, and the bank—not the ATM, mind you, the actual insideof the bank, standing for 45 minutes in that roped-off line." (Cue the dramatic sigh.) "You've got to help me with dinner; I'm about to keel over." So there.
Then our pastor began a series of messages on marriage. The first three focused on the husband's role. As I diligently took notes, I was struck by my great fortune in being married to Pete. He's tender, patient, tolerant of my insanity, generous, steadfast, loyal, and loving. By the third Sunday, I couldn't get all his wonderful qualities out of my mind. All day Monday I was preoccupied with the kind of thoughts I'd had when we were first falling in love. So when Pete arrived home that night, things weren't all that typical.
I was still cooking, and the girls were still filthy. But when I heard that garage door open, I didn't think,Reinforcements!I thought, Pete! As he rounded the corner into the kitchen, I dropped the spatula, turned, and gave him a hug and a kiss. thenI asked him to get the girls in the tub.
Later that evening, Pete told me he appreciated the way I'd greeted him. I was taken aback. Was the difference really dramatic enough to mention? I started to think,How do I normally treat him?As I mulled over my previous behavior, I realized I generally treated him like a roommate. Or on the Exhaustion Olympics days, like an adversary.
I didn't marry Pete to be my roommate. I chose him to be the love of my life. But I sure wasn't acting like it.
So the next day, I pulled out all the stops. Not only did I drop the spatula, walked down the hallto greet him at the door. Pete isn't normally a big grinner. But his whole face crinkled into this amazing, toothy smile. For the rest of the evening, we were flirty and giggly. We even had a conversation over dinner, as opposed to simply refereeing our kids.
This was such a remarkable turn of events, Pete called our pastor the next day and reported me. My pastor then called me that afternoon and asked me to share my experience the following Sunday.
Originally published in: Marriage Partnership, 2007, Summer
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Average User Rating:
Sandi
Oh man ... this is simply awesome. I know how it feels when I call my husband and he excitedly says, 'Hi Sweetie!!!' It's the best feeling ever and changes a lousy day to something so much brighter. How we greet each other is a big deal :)
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