The Moth
Lloyd and I had a wonderful weekend hanging out with friends. The weather was warm and beautiful as we sat around a pool watching children splashing in their colorful air-filled flotation devices and swimsuits. I loved Saturday, hanging out with friends that I met in junior high. Oh yes.... junior high. We talked about what bad kids we were, yet still completely innocent. We used to walk around all hours of the night just for the sake of walking around and staring into the houses of people we knew and thought we were in love with, even at the tender age of 12 and 13. We were all trying to figure out how our parents allowed us to roam so freely, and we never really came up with an answer to that...
My husband huddled in a corner with the male figures, which I always find funny about social gatherings and parties. Mens voices go deeper, and they all drink beers in unison and form a semi-circle or full circle in which, it seems, women must not enter. Anytime Lloyd and I go somewhere together, he is quickly whisked away by the boys. They can be complete strangers, and they will gravitate toward him as if they are saving him from having to sit near me and any of the females around. The moment we sit down or walk through the doors, you will see the others quickly stare at him, wave their arms in a flurry and call him over with a cold beer in hand. Men are funny, funny creatures.
And so it might be several hours until I really see him again- which I am completely fine with. It gives me and my girlfriends a chance to talk about tabloid rumors and t.v. shows that completely waste our lives but we love anyway. We will talk about these funny creatures we call our husbands or boyfriends and I might allow myself a moment to wonder if cave-people behaved this way, and I feel certain that they did.
Cave-men grunted and formed these semi-circles so they could like, I don't know, grunt about who could wrangle a wooly mammoth the fastest and the women would grunt and groan while sharing tips on how to remove stains from bear-skinned skirts. We can say we have evolved, but every social gathering proves otherwise. Men are silly creatures. Women are social-beings who just love get-togethers.
The end of parties is always the best. The sun has gone down and just about everyone has left. It is now officially okay to talk to your wives again, and you might even sit next to them. A new circle or semi-circle happens and, although small, it is always a great group of people who stuck it out til' the end. The proverbial "after-party" starts, and everyone, although a little bit tired, is sad to see the night end and will hang on to the last of the conversations for as long as they can.
Lloyd and I huddled together with our friends on Saturday night. We watched, one by one, as guests departed and made the last bit of small talk that we could. My husband, slightly intoxicated by the end, was displaying his usual late-night demeanor. It is a gentle and amorous spirit that he has about him that is magnified when he has enjoyed beers with friends. I saw him staring into the pool where a moth was desperately trying to escape drowning. He whispered that he was going to save it and, moments later, came back to sit near me with a moth in his hand, gently flapping its wet wings.
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The moth flew away moments later, and felt a surge of love and admiration for my compassionate husband.
On the way home we stopped to get him a bite to eat and, in the parking lot we saw a cat trying to get into a garbage bag- likely filled with leftover food. When I turned down my husband to take the cat home he said "well let me open the bag for him..."
And there he went, despite being tipsy, hungry and tired, he very ungracefully teetered across the parking lot, tore open the bag and, all over again, I fell in love with my compassionate husband
It is the strangest, smallest acts of kindness and gentleness that remind me why I married him.
Now, if I could just get those socks off the floor...
My husband huddled in a corner with the male figures, which I always find funny about social gatherings and parties. Mens voices go deeper, and they all drink beers in unison and form a semi-circle or full circle in which, it seems, women must not enter. Anytime Lloyd and I go somewhere together, he is quickly whisked away by the boys. They can be complete strangers, and they will gravitate toward him as if they are saving him from having to sit near me and any of the females around. The moment we sit down or walk through the doors, you will see the others quickly stare at him, wave their arms in a flurry and call him over with a cold beer in hand. Men are funny, funny creatures.
And so it might be several hours until I really see him again- which I am completely fine with. It gives me and my girlfriends a chance to talk about tabloid rumors and t.v. shows that completely waste our lives but we love anyway. We will talk about these funny creatures we call our husbands or boyfriends and I might allow myself a moment to wonder if cave-people behaved this way, and I feel certain that they did.
Cave-men grunted and formed these semi-circles so they could like, I don't know, grunt about who could wrangle a wooly mammoth the fastest and the women would grunt and groan while sharing tips on how to remove stains from bear-skinned skirts. We can say we have evolved, but every social gathering proves otherwise. Men are silly creatures. Women are social-beings who just love get-togethers.
The end of parties is always the best. The sun has gone down and just about everyone has left. It is now officially okay to talk to your wives again, and you might even sit next to them. A new circle or semi-circle happens and, although small, it is always a great group of people who stuck it out til' the end. The proverbial "after-party" starts, and everyone, although a little bit tired, is sad to see the night end and will hang on to the last of the conversations for as long as they can.
Lloyd and I huddled together with our friends on Saturday night. We watched, one by one, as guests departed and made the last bit of small talk that we could. My husband, slightly intoxicated by the end, was displaying his usual late-night demeanor. It is a gentle and amorous spirit that he has about him that is magnified when he has enjoyed beers with friends. I saw him staring into the pool where a moth was desperately trying to escape drowning. He whispered that he was going to save it and, moments later, came back to sit near me with a moth in his hand, gently flapping its wet wings.
The moth flew away moments later, and felt a surge of love and admiration for my compassionate husband.
On the way home we stopped to get him a bite to eat and, in the parking lot we saw a cat trying to get into a garbage bag- likely filled with leftover food. When I turned down my husband to take the cat home he said "well let me open the bag for him..."
And there he went, despite being tipsy, hungry and tired, he very ungracefully teetered across the parking lot, tore open the bag and, all over again, I fell in love with my compassionate husband
It is the strangest, smallest acts of kindness and gentleness that remind me why I married him.
Now, if I could just get those socks off the floor...
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