For anyone new to this blog, a little background information. My husband and I own a small business with a couple of employees in rural America. We work together full-time in the office. Our job descriptions are complementary but separate. Technically, it’s his signature on the “President” line.
Today he walked over to my desk and picked up an invoice from one of our distributors that I had a question about. He starts in on “from now on…” about this invoice.
What he’s forgetting is that approximately a month ago, I asked him this exact question about the timing of this invoice. I was annoyed….
Because I like to keep things light and as positive as I can, here is how the rest of that conversation went in .gif fashion.
People often wonder how we can work together full-time, live together, love each other, and still LIKE each other the majority of the time. It’s work. Marriage is work. Work is work. Respect and trust is work.
Both of us have had to eat our humble pie and accept that we are wrong sometimes. It happens.
Eat the pie. Move on. Live life.
Me. When my husband sprung it on me this morning: “We need to get to the office 30 minutes early. Let’s ride together.”
Ummm….. I haven’t brushed my hair or my teeth. I’m not wearing makeup. This will be a 10hr day at the office, so I need to pack a lunch or something edible.
But yes. Thank you. I am already wearing pants.
Has he prepped anything for the day? Men have it so simple. He’s dressed with shoes and wearing his coat to walk out the door. “Where are your keys?”
I slide the keys across the floor while I simultaneously shove an entire blender and a banana in my oversized purse.
“You can either wait by the door or out in the truck, but I’m going to need a couple more minutes!” Irritation…
He starts to tap his shoe on the floor and does that ‘I’m waiting for you body posture.’
At this point, I literally stick a full-size carton of almond milk in my backpack. Running into the bathroom, I swipe my small makeup bag off the counter onto the carton of almond milk. Jogging back to the kitchen to pick up my oversized purse, I tell him to move it. “Let’s go!”
Five minutes and we are out the door. Man is he lucky that I love him or this might be tomorrow morning….