My way or the highway won’t for a good marriage make.
So when I find myself engaging in willfulness with my husband about this thing or that, I am humbly slapped down by universal forces that show me why Nature created diversity. And husbands who refrain from ‘telling us so’.
I’ll quit beating around the bush on this, and tell you I wrongfully accused my husband of losing my cell phone in a recent post. The reason I know this is that it was never lost in the first place. In fact, I found it carefully zipped away in my eye glass case after going through the trouble of locking the phone so you can’t call out (I still haven’t received the replacement card from the phone carrier).
I swear I didn’t do it. I don’t remember putting it there. Ever. Feeling the I-told-you-so’s crawling up my chin and into my mouth, I quashed the urge to continue the accusations by smiling meekly at my hubby, whose grin revealed why the power of slow is so good for impulsives like me who sometimes mess up with such speed and alacrity as to make our inner tortoise cringe.
I hearby redeem my husband’s good name for all eternity. Or at least until it happens again!