I’m a firm believer that marriage is full of ups and downs and I also think anyone who pretends to be hunky dory happy all the time is most likely full of it, but I’ve gotta say, my husband has been my hero lately. I think it may have started the day he found the bicycle. I was pretty upset when my son’s bike was stolen. It’s not the first time something disappeared from our house, but usually you know who stole from you.
I can’t list how many times I’ve opened one of my photo albums to find pictures missing. That always makes me so mad, because pictures are so easy to copy and share, ESPECIALLY is this digital age! Over the years my wedding rings have walked off, along with this little brass pill box. It was my great aunt’s, and it had a frog covered in little jewels on it. I loved that little trinket. Then there was the zippo collection. Don’t ask me why I collected those, I don’t smoke, they just seemed cool at one point in time. Then my mother-in-law bought me a princess cut diamond ring to replace my stolen wedding rings, and wouldn’t you know it, POOF, GONE! For each of those things, there is a suspect in my head, someone I knew to stop trusting, but the bike, that really made me mad because someone I didn’t even know had the nerve to wonder up into my yard and just take off on it, but this town is small and I knew it would eventually surface.
I guess I did have a suspect in my head, sort of! I knew there had been quite a bit of traffic on our street lately. It was the kind of traffic that drives real slow, stops for 45 seconds, and is gone again. I knew it had to be someone in that traffic pattern that took the bike, and sure enough, my theory panned out. One morning Dyl Pickle spotted a man riding the bike! My husband stopped and jumped out of his truck. Now, if you know my husband, you know he is Mr. Happy Go Lucky. He rarely has a cross word to say about anyone or to anyone, but as I heard the story retold, he gave that guy about 30 seconds to either return the bike or “get his head caved in”. I wish I had seen that first hand. The guy swore he bought it from someone else, so the hubby said “I tell you what, bring him by the house and I will give you an apology while I cave in his head…” I still can’t imagine my husband being so “in your face” but I can tell you this, when that bike was returned I had one very happy little boy who swore he would stop riding his sister’s pink bicycle up and down the street. Of course, he already pulled all the streamers out of the handlebars, but boys will be boys! And I was proud of my boys that day.
The funny thing is that even though the letters that spelled his name were missing from the bike, it was returned all tricked out with a more cushioned seat, LED lights, and a magnetic “hide-a-key” box that smelled like it had hidden a few plants in it. We tossed the box into the neighbor’s yard- seems like it was something he might need back, but the lights just made the bike that much more fun.
I wish all my stories had a happy ending like that one, but I guess that’s why the good ones shine through our memories. This week I had another reason to believe my husband is my hero. After he rescued me from the dark, took me out for a night on the town, and re-named me the “Baby Monster”–
(because I like to steal my new grand-baby as much as the Cookie Monster goes for chocolate chip), I got back the pictures from the Father-Daughter Dance. They brightened my heart, reminding me again that my children are blessed with a wonderful father. Sure, he snores too loud and he gripes when the dog barks at night and he’s always hollering “who are you talking to?” whenever I’m on the phone, but year after year he has a date for the Father Daughter dance. He took Blondie and now he takes the little princess and it breaks my heart in the most wonderful ways to see that side of him. He doesn’t just dance with them. He takes them to dinner and they go to the dance and he gets on the floor and does the Cupid shuffle and they eat too many cookies and I stay home and wait for the stories, and the pictures! I live to see those pictures!
I always wanted to do that with my father, and I never got that chance. I wonder if I’m too old to take a date to the Father Daughter Dance??
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