Sunday, October 10, 2010

Sign language

My husband is a sweet man.  He's always thanking me for the culinary masterpieces I cook up for him. . .
(Slightly burnt, but also slightly eatable.)
(I don't remember what this was. . .)
. . . as well thanking me for the trips to the bank I run on his behalf.  But rather than verbally acknowledging all of these things every time I complete one, (that would take too long anyway ;P), he varies his gracious gestures using signals that I've picked up on.

For instance, "Belch!"  Translated that means, "Gee, darling and talented wife, that food was magnanimous!"  Or when he plays with my hair before bed-- that means, "The back rub I got last night was superb as usual, darling.  Remind me how that went?"  My favorite is the lip smacking.  This usually means, "I'm thanking you in advanced for retrieving my water bottle from the fridge and bringing it to me, attractive lady."  Though, I only admit to understanding this signal occasionally.  Often I just smile at him real cute-like and pretend I didn't hear.  He he, the frigde just seems so far away sometimes. . .

I have signals too.  When I pat the couch cushion beside me it means, "Come sit down, kind sir.  I'm cold and I need snuggles."  Or when the alarm clock rings and I rub his shoulder, that means, "The alarm went off-- start wiping sleepies from your eyes."  If the alarm rings again, I rub his chest which translates into, "Get up or I'm turning on the light!"  When I turn on the light, it's my very polite way of saying, "I give up!  I'm going to start telling you about a long vivid dream until you roll out of bed to escape the boring slumber tales of my dad purchasing a donkey and a pig in order to become self-sufficient and how he brought them over to our house and tried to convince us to raise them but the pig kept pooping everywhere so I tied it to a tree and hoped my sister's dog would eat it and. . ."  And I'm quite sure that's where he starts to just hear, "Wah wah wah wah wah," like the grown-ups on Snoopy because he throws off his covers by this point.

These little things make being married so fun-- having our own secret code that only we understand and laughing at how silly it is.  I wish I got to see him more often.  Between school and work, we have very little time together.  Being at school, watching couples coo and goo-goo around campus makes me miss my sweetie a lot.  I’m thankful that life, like weather, flows in seasons and someday the season of being home together will start.  According to my Family Finance teacher that happens at about age 65.  I guess I can wait 40+ years cause this guy. . .

He’s worth waiting for.

In other world news, look what my sister bought for me.  Let the quilting begin!  Thanks Aunt Jelly!

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