I can’t fix stuff.
Allow me to clarify…I’m actually quite proficient at breaking stuff. Not intentionally…I’m just a pro at taking an otherwise normal moment and finding a way to put a dent, ding or busted spring in it.
When we were first married, I told my wife I was going to add a shelf to our closet. Seems normal enough, doesn’t it? Enter the part where when I was done, the shelf intended for human size sweaters could barely hold infant size t-shirts. And exclude the fact that while wielding a power drill to make said shelf, I nearly (again, accidentally) knocked my wife out as it flung off of the end of my drill and spun across an open room in her general direction in the process. Her cat like reflexes avoided the missile like plywood, as I was met with an explosion of laughter and hysterical finger pointing at my inability to construct a simple shelf.
Flash forward to today where my wife just gave me some rather sound advice.
“I think you should just wrap yourself in bubble wrap and sit still so that you don’t break anything else in my house”.
Now in order to fully understand that point you must understand a few things about our relationship.
1. We laugh…like…A LOT! As in, when she said that she was laughing and so was I.
2. I, as mentioned before, can’t fix anything…while she can fix everything.
and most importantly…
3. The longer we are married the more I realize my limitations are my greatest ability to celebrate my wife’s strengths.
And it’s #3 that made me write this post.
Life is too freaking short to sit there and act like we are someone we are not. So when Ella (our 11 year old) and I were goofing around downstairs today and subsequently busted the pantry door in our antics?
Something happened that took me almost 14 years of marriage to figure out.
I picked up a screwdriver to try and fix my mess, but when it didn’t work, I put it down and asked for help.
I asked for help.
I walked into the kitchen, told me wife that Ella broke the door (HA! we all laughed at that, because we all know it was my fault), and said…
“Cara, I need you to fix this.”
Because the reality is, I could have stood there all day staring at that broken spring and latch system on that door. The only thing to show for it would have been me being older and my wife laughing louder. 🙂
So I hand over my pride…errr, I mean…the screwdriver…and just like clockwork…
My wife comes upstairs to tell me that the door is fixed.
Not an hour later…or 4 hours later…but 5 minutes later.
Marriage is about a lot of things.
Today, for me…it’s about a couple.
1. Being thankful that my wife can fix everything I break.
2. Being thankful I’m not as stubborn as I used to be…
and can step aside and admit when I can’t fix it.
There is a lot of strength that goes untapped in our spouse,
because it’s trapped underneath the pride we hold it down with.
Pride is a waste of energy. As I’ve gotten older, and dare I say…wiser (at the ripe old age of 38) I’ve realized it’s WAY more fun to spend my time and energy laughing at myself and celebrating with my wife, than grunting, pissing and moaning because I can’t fix everything.
I don’t want to break stuff, but as life has it…I’m a little clumsy like that.
I am stoked I am married to a woman who can “crush fix” it like nobody’s business.
And how do I pay her back?
Well, besides that. 😉
And yes…a healthy marriage has plenty of “that”. That’s a different post, for another day.
As for right now?
I’d say it’s by agreeing not to build any more shelves for sweaters.
But clearly it looks like it may take more than that.
Like, maybe…wearing a bubble wrap suit.
Oh…and handing over the screwdriver.
Until Next Time,