If asked, Mr. Wonderful would tell you that my two main hobbies are pounding oversized nails into plaster walls and dragging heavy furniture across hardwood floors. He’s so silly. I also enjoy driving around on an underinflated left front tire.
What really keeps a relationship healthy is always finding new things to love about each other. Mr. Wonderful excels at this. After three decades together he both knows me better than I do myself and somehow doesn’t know me at all. It keeps things fresh.
Sick
The other day I was on my deathbed or, at the very least, lying about the house with body aches and chills. He left me there to perish. Later that same day he questioned me, confused, when he entered the living room to find me standing on the arm of our sofa, balanced precariously and using a mop handle to reach for a drapery rod. Obviously, from my position on the sofa, I realized that the drapes were horrible. The curtains were crooked. Clearly, we were living in squalor and I couldn’t rest another moment until I addressed that issue. So I rallied my strength to climb up there. I can be sick and sick to death of the drapes simultaneously. I multitask.
Last night he spent his entire evening during his busiest business season making a two-hour round trip (not including dinner) to pick up a dresser I had purchased sight unseen online. I need another dresser like I need a hole in my head by the way. I don’t even LIKE dressers for clothing. I prefer to hang clothing and use baskets for socks and undergarments. In fact, I already have one empty dresser. Now I have two. I think if I get a third it’s officially a collection?
It was just such a pretty dresser. Late 1800s, carved handles. It is going to look so amazing holding absolutely nothing. As an aside, we spent more on dinner out than we did on the dresser. I love a deal. I also love dinner.
In my defense, I don’t intend to purchase things that end up being quite a drive to retrieve. It just happens. Repeatedly.
This is basically how it goes for me using Facebook Marketplace for thrifting.
Me: Sets search radius for 25 miles from my Ohio village.
Facebook: “Great! Here’s a perfect item at an amazing price in Maryland …”
Who doesn’t like a road trip that requires two days and an overnight stay for a $15 end table?
Seek
I also have a photo sent by a friend of a curb find that may or may not still be available. It’s entirely unnecessary — and cool. I am definitely going to ask him to grab the truck and drive aimlessly around town in hopes of finding it.
Honestly, every day I stay married is a miracle.
When I share photos of my home on social media (which I do often because I am unabashedly house-proud) feedback tells me I have good taste. Maybe those are just comments from the nicer people and the mean people keep their opinions to themselves. It’s the internet though so I highly doubt it.
I love fussy fabrics and furniture, lots of textiles, art across the ages and stacks of books. Basically, my taste is best described as “Elderly East Coast Maven meets Victorian ghost.” If it’s carved and ostentatious with chinoiserie and maybe some wicker — I probably want it. Heck, I probably want two of them. I am forever trying to get Mr. Wonderful excited about my “finds.” I think he’s just happy when it only takes two strong men to lift it and anything under three hours to bring it home.
To be fair, this is payback for him sending us to the auto parts store. By “us” I mean GirlWonder and I. We each had something to purchase. She was told she needed a headlight bulb and I was on a mission to purchase antifreeze both at Mr. Wonderful’s request. Not just any antifreeze, mind you. It had to be a certain type. I had no idea there were a variety of flavors.
Once we had our selections to the counter for our respective checkout, we were asked numerous questions that we did not have the answer to. There we stood wide-eyed. The nice man did ask for Mr. Wonderful’s telephone number in order to pull up his account for the rewards but I’m not entirely sure that was to give Mr. Wonderful rewards. It would make a lot more sense if they were actually adding a surcharge for having to deal with clueless spouses and children.
