I love my husband. He is an honest, hard-working, faithful, loving man. I can count on him for anything. He makes me feel protected, unconditionally loved and respected. He is my best friend. He’s also the messiest, most disorganized person I’ve ever met. Considering I am a germophobe who thrives on neatness and order, this relationship wasn’t one I would’ve bet on during our dating years but we have somehow managed to make it work. I am patient and tolerant of the fact that he misplaces almost everything and leaves a trail of chaos behind him. He is patient and tolerant of the fact that I am never more than two steps away, aiming my can of Lysol in his direction and leaving him engulfed in a disinfectant fog.
My husband is famous for losing his keys… his wallet… his shoes… his jacket… his cell phone. The list could go on but you get the picture. I can’t even count how many times he has grabbed my cell phone in order to call his cell phone in an attempt to locate it.
For Christmas two years ago I bought him a key finder that attaches to his set of keys and beeps. Unfortunately, he lost the remote.
It’s also not unusual for my husband to call me up in the middle of day to tell me he has locked himself out of his truck. My job is to locate the spare key and bring it to him. Sadly, when he called me yesterday to have me bring the extra key I discovered that he has now lost that as well. This is when I discovered something else about my husband. He’s actually really good at breaking into his truck. With a wire and some wooden wedges, this man skillfully and quickly popped the lock inside the driver’s side door. I stood there with my mouth open as I watched the most honest man I’ve ever known break into a truck as if he’d done it hundreds of times. That’s when he informed me that he had. He just never wanted me to know how often he locks his keys in his truck.
His birthday is coming up. I was thinking of getting him a magnetic hide-a-key holder.
To read more from the Two Loons, check out the book Cookies for Dinner.