My husband Rob, fellow HomeFront board member and Johnny Paycheck around these parts, is a pretty quiet guy, and from all accounts of his childhood, he seems to have been born that way.
The thing about Rob is that he rarely says things just to say them. He doesn't chatter just to fill a void, and he is totally cool with sitting in silence. That freaks some people out, and they start to think he's mad at them, but it works out for me. I am perfectly happy sitting in silence, especially since that never happens around here.
Anyhoo, the point is that Rob only says things he means, and my mother-in-law has told me this story since I first started dating him:
When Rob was in kindergarten, he used to ride the bus even though the school was six houses down the street from his own. (They were out in the boonies with no sidewalks.) He went to afternoon kindergarten, so he would get home around three, to his mother waiting at the door.
One day, he came home and looked up at his mother and said:
"Mom, this is the best part of my day, when I come home and see you."
My mother-in-law melted into a puddle right there at the door. How could she do anything else?
My own mother always taught me to watch how a man treated his mother because that was the truest indication of how he would treat a woman. As you may have been able to deduce, I am treated pretty well.
And now I that have two dimpled boys of my own, as well as two darling girls, this story means so much more to me. It's amazing how one gummy smile can erase a fussy afternoon, or how one sleepy head on my shoulder, one warm, breathy mouth in my neck can make me cover a downy cheek with kisses.
It's a good life, this gig.
Happy Mother's Day, my friends.