I love my wife, just as much as I did on the day of our wedding, nearly seventeen years ago. Our anniversary is later this month.
I am not the world's greatest husband, to put it mildly. I do have my uses, however: for example, I carried in the monstrously large watermelon she bought at a local market yesterday. It looked like it had been grown by Hagrid.
Last weekend, she took some watermelon over to our oldest daughter's house and the two of them sat out by the pool and ate it. That daughter is expecting a little girl in about 7 weeks.
I'm beyond excited. We all are.
I've been thinking my life is too complicated, and I'm working through strategies to simplify it. There's a lot to it, but one aspect of it all is a different approach to my writing, one involving better discipline.
Integrity is about simplicity, in some ways, and that's what I want to cultivate.
When I got the watermelon out of the back of the car and into the house, I asked, "where do you want this?"
"Anywhere is fine," she said distractedly.
I stifled my immediate impulse to put it back in our bedroom.
Because I love my wife, just as much as I did on the day of our wedding, nearly seventeen years ago.
