Marianne’s gone this weekend visiting her home in Tennessee and seeing her youngest brother get married (the second of three family weddings this year not counting ours) and I realized this morning that I miss her. My routines feel all out of sync and I have to do things that I don’t normally do – like check the mail – because they’re her jobs. Anyhow, I got thinking on my drive home about the tangible things I love about her.
Obviously, I think she’s nice and loyal and wonderful and amazing but what about the things I can actually quantify? Every Friday at work, I am responsible for a Top 5 list that goes on our Website based on the week’s Top 25 list that was printed in our paper.
In that same style and in no particular order, I present the Top 5 tangible things I love about Marianne:
Seriously, I don’t ever check the mail, so I love that she does it. When I was single I’m pretty sure the mailman used to think I was dead or had moved to a foreign island about once a month because the box was overflowing. The last place in Ohio I lived I had to go to the local Post Office to check my PO Box, sometimes it took two days because no more mail would fit in the box and apparently it’s a federal offense to hand mail over the counter.
Callie’s my baby. I’ve had her since she was eight weeks old and for two years it was us against the world. Marianne came in to the picture and while I still love the cat, Marianne only slightly tolerates her. Marianne is 5’4″ and Callie knows this…as in Callie will jump on the counter and when Marianne goes to shoo her off, Callie will jump to the top of the cabinets and meow in a voice that says “try again sucker!” I love that Marianne has yet to kill the cat.
Some people are hoarders. Most tend to grab on to one item and fixate. In college, mine, apparently, was canned vegetables. I would go to the store, usually without a list, and pick up whatever looked good. That usually included at least one can of vegetables. Peas were my favorite, then corn, then carrots probably. I never actually needed them but I never failed to grab a can (or four if they were on sale). By the time I graduated, I think I donated probably 10 cans to the local food bank. Luckily, because Marianne now requires that we have a list, and makes one for me if I’m going alone, I no longer have that problem. So I love that she cares about my canned pea hoarding temptation.
I used to be better at iro…who am I kidding? I hate to iron. In high school I sometimes slept in my uniform skirt (I only owned one and safety pinned it when it got too small…like that was a source of weird pride) and then went to school the next day. I learned to iron in basic training and kept it up for about six months – until I realized the base dry cleaners charged $2 to clean and starch a whole uniform and that was the end of that. I have been known to handle an iron every once in a while, but I usually just end up double creasing everything and getting frustrated. Since Marianne loves to iron (weirdo that she is), I totally allow her to iron my things and love her for helping me out.
Marianne can dance. I, however, was not blessed with a sense of rhythm. And they certainly didn’t teach all of the “straight” Catholic girls to dance at my high school because, who knows, we might all become lezzzzbians if we danced together! Anyway, I like to dance but am in no way capable of grooving out like Marianne is, it comes out more like Elaine Benes with elbows flying everywhere than Jennifer Grey in Flashdance. I love that she puts up with my trying anyway. Every year we go to Camp Out and over Labor Day they create a country western-themed weekend. I am more comfortable on the back of a tall thing with four legs than I am on a dance floor, but Marianne brings out my best and inspires me to try anyway.
So there you have it. Five of the favorite actual, tangible, things I love about the woman I’m marrying. Not bad for thoughts thought on a Friday evening as I was driving home from work.
editor’s note: apparently it was Jennifer Beals in Flashdance. And Jennifer Gray is spelled with an ‘a’ not and ‘e.’ Told you I know nothing about music and dancing. LOL