Mr Opposite
03/10/09 10:09
Our first snowfall brought more than the promise of a
white Christmas. It gave me a chance to thank God for
my most valuable earthly gift – my husband, Mr.
Opposite. We discovered soon after our marriage that
while opposites attract, they can also repel! We got
along like two cats in a sack that first year.
Fortunately, my husband learned and then taught me
that when our differences threatened to blow the lid
off our relationship, tipping the steam vent with
spurts of laughter born of grace could change
everything.
As I said, it all started with a blanket of feathery
snow the night my husband and I returned from a
weeklong trip. We quickly unpacked and repacked
because early the next morning we had to leave again
on separate jaunts. He was flying south for business
and I was headed into the mountains with our kids to
ski with their cousins.
Bright and early, my husband installed the ski rack on my car and fastened in skis and snowboards while I packed gear into the trunk. After a hasty kiss goodbye, he dashed out with his luggage while I woke up the kids. I knew that if we wanted to get even a half-day, we’d have to get rolling.
The phone rang while I was toweling off from my shower and I grabbed it, still dripping. It was my neighbor: “I noticed some luggage in the middle of the street. It had your phone number on it. I put it on the sidewalk.” I thanked her, hung up, and ran in circles for several minutes before I became rational.
I called my husband’s cell phone, hoping he could return for his luggage and still make his flight. He didn’t answer. Flustered, I threw on some clothes and fetched the luggage. Dropping his computer bag and suitcase inside the door, I tried calling him again. To my horror I heard a muted ringing coming from the foyer.
Investigating, I found his phone and his plane ticket inside the computer bag. This threw me into another tail-chasing frenzy, wasting precious minutes. After praying for help, it occurred to me to check his itinerary and I saw that his flight was leaving an hour later than he’d thought. Checking my watch, I saw that I could get his luggage to the airport with 30 minutes to spare. I decided to risk it, hoping he hadn’t turned back already. I stationed my groggy son by the phone. “When dad calls, tell him to watch for me outside the terminal!”
Not far down the road, my cell phone rang. It was my son. Sure enough, dad had called and was thrilled to hear I was on my way. I confess, the African proverb, “It takes a village to raise a child,” crossed my mind rather uncharitably as I mulled over my current situation. Our ski day was quickly waning and I was heading in the opposite direction.
I pulled into the airport scanning the sidewalk for my husband. He appeared suddenly, frantically waving. I pulled over. He yanked open the door, “I’m so sorry! How could I be so stupid?” His apologies poured forth. He felt terrible for delaying our departure but his sincerity and appreciation softened my heart. Although time was tight, I had to ask: “How did this happen?”
“I set my suitcases down behind the car so I could open the trunk,” he began. “Then I noticed I had your keys. I dashed inside to exchange keys. When I came back out, I forgot about the bags, jumped in, backed out, and drove off.”
We both started to chuckle as we pictured those bags gently sliding out into the street, nudged by the bumper over the slick snow. “When I got the airport and opened my trunk I thought I’d been robbed!” he continued. We laughed louder. “Then I remembered leaving them behind the car. I caught the shuttle to the terminal, found out I had an extra hour, and called home,” he finished. After several more apologies and heartfelt thanks he lugged his bags into the terminal, smiling and waving.
Grinning, I headed for home and for a shorter ski day. But it was worth it. Being married to someone who can laugh at himself and invite others to join in is a gift that guarantees many a merry Christmas.
-30- 730 words
Bright and early, my husband installed the ski rack on my car and fastened in skis and snowboards while I packed gear into the trunk. After a hasty kiss goodbye, he dashed out with his luggage while I woke up the kids. I knew that if we wanted to get even a half-day, we’d have to get rolling.
The phone rang while I was toweling off from my shower and I grabbed it, still dripping. It was my neighbor: “I noticed some luggage in the middle of the street. It had your phone number on it. I put it on the sidewalk.” I thanked her, hung up, and ran in circles for several minutes before I became rational.
I called my husband’s cell phone, hoping he could return for his luggage and still make his flight. He didn’t answer. Flustered, I threw on some clothes and fetched the luggage. Dropping his computer bag and suitcase inside the door, I tried calling him again. To my horror I heard a muted ringing coming from the foyer.
Investigating, I found his phone and his plane ticket inside the computer bag. This threw me into another tail-chasing frenzy, wasting precious minutes. After praying for help, it occurred to me to check his itinerary and I saw that his flight was leaving an hour later than he’d thought. Checking my watch, I saw that I could get his luggage to the airport with 30 minutes to spare. I decided to risk it, hoping he hadn’t turned back already. I stationed my groggy son by the phone. “When dad calls, tell him to watch for me outside the terminal!”
Not far down the road, my cell phone rang. It was my son. Sure enough, dad had called and was thrilled to hear I was on my way. I confess, the African proverb, “It takes a village to raise a child,” crossed my mind rather uncharitably as I mulled over my current situation. Our ski day was quickly waning and I was heading in the opposite direction.
I pulled into the airport scanning the sidewalk for my husband. He appeared suddenly, frantically waving. I pulled over. He yanked open the door, “I’m so sorry! How could I be so stupid?” His apologies poured forth. He felt terrible for delaying our departure but his sincerity and appreciation softened my heart. Although time was tight, I had to ask: “How did this happen?”
“I set my suitcases down behind the car so I could open the trunk,” he began. “Then I noticed I had your keys. I dashed inside to exchange keys. When I came back out, I forgot about the bags, jumped in, backed out, and drove off.”
We both started to chuckle as we pictured those bags gently sliding out into the street, nudged by the bumper over the slick snow. “When I got the airport and opened my trunk I thought I’d been robbed!” he continued. We laughed louder. “Then I remembered leaving them behind the car. I caught the shuttle to the terminal, found out I had an extra hour, and called home,” he finished. After several more apologies and heartfelt thanks he lugged his bags into the terminal, smiling and waving.
Grinning, I headed for home and for a shorter ski day. But it was worth it. Being married to someone who can laugh at himself and invite others to join in is a gift that guarantees many a merry Christmas.
-30- 730 words