I'm Posting This, Running From The Computer, And Never Looking Back

You should be warned that the following topic is a bit, er, delicate for Christian blogging circles, and I have pondered whether or not I should actually post this story. But I finally decided that y'all probably aren't too sensitive about this kind of thing, because most of you are currently married or have been married, and a lot of you have kids, so you, um, have a pretty solid understanding of the, you know, privileges that go along with marriage.

Ahem.

AHEHEHEHEHEHEM.

So.

Over the last nine years, David and I have had several discussions about what works and doesn't work in terms of laying the groundwork for romance.

For example.

For many women, here's what works:

1) Kind, sincere, encouraging words
2) Consistent, tender affection, with no end game in mind (yeah - like that happens)
3) Random acts of thoughtfulness - giving the kids their baths, planning a date night, writing a sweet note, etc.

And for many men, here's what works:

1) Everything

So, you know, there's a bit of a learning curve with the whole "love language" deal.

ANYWAY, David is great about trying to speak my language. He really is. If he knows that this, this, and this will help fulfill my emotional needs, he tries to do those things. I think that's sweet.

But every once in awhile, well, it just gets comical.

As it did yesterday, when my husband, fresh from a testosterone-fueled rampage against evil marionettes and a clown-faced spider (a video game...not my worst nightmare come to life), walked upstairs, and said the following with a gleam in his eye:

"Happy 4th of July."

And I just grinned, because yeah, it was the 4th.

And then:

"Wanna make some fireworks later?"

Y'all.

I couldn't help it. I giggled. Then snorted a little. And David started laughing, too. Because the whole thing just reeked of effort.

But that's not the best part.

Later, when we were eating lunch, as we were talking about our plans for the afternoon, David apparently started thinking of all the Southern-ish summer chores he remembered seeing Mama do when she and Daddy lived in their old house. They always had a huge garden, and Mama spent many summer afternoons cutting corn off the cob, shelling peas, snapping beans, etc. and then going through the process of putting that stuff away for the winter, either by freezing it or preserving it in a big ole mason jar.

So I guess David was thinking about what would be the most old fashioned thing I could possibly do on July 4th, what would most closely resemble my parents' all-American summer activities, because here is what he said to me in an attempt at down-home humor, with absolutely no regard for getting me up-to-speed with the train of thought he'd been following for the last several minutes:

"Well, what are you gonna do this afternoon? Put up some pickle?"

And y'all. I thought. He meant. You know.

The fireworks thing.

I was MORTIFIED.

Because I'll just go ahead and tell you, that was SO not my love language. And SO not something I would ever expect him to say.

But then he continued talking about Mama and all the vegetables she used to put up in the summertime, and I realized that there was nary a trace of irony or innuendo in his previous question. That he really was talking about combining vinegar and sugar and spices with cucumbers.

I practically collapsed with relief. I mean, I just couldn't imagine him saying something so tacky, especially at the dinner table in front of our child, but after the whole fireworks comment, I guess my brain was sort of frazzled.

Anyway, when I told him what I thought he meant, he just about choked on his potato salad. He fell out laughing. We're STILL laughing about it. And yes, he gave me his blessing to share our little "misunderstanding" with y'all.

So, whatever you did (she says, uncomfortably), I hope your 4th was very happy indeed.

And I will never share this much personal information ever again. :-)