The Timer

This is the kind of post that will get me a whole lotta love. Not that I would strategically post nice things about Bryan in order to get something nice in return (because that would not be prudent), but the most significant lesson I’ve learned this month is that affirmation and thankfulness softens the jagged edges of a marriage.

This is also one of those posts that says, You Were Right, without actually having to say it. Out loud. To his face.

If I apologize to Bryan on the internet does it count?

I just finished a laundry cycle of Bryan’s work shirts, which I was able to pull out of the drier while hot and hang them up without ironing.

This is a big deal and worthy of prime real estate on my blog because I fought him long and hard over the timer he bought me so this could happen.

My drier doesn’t have a buzzer, so most of the time I forget about my clothes until hours later when they’re wrinkled and cold. Bryan bought me the timer to remind me when the clothes are dry, a gesture I was not excited about to say the very least.

I’m not sure why I was such a bitch about the timer. Maybe just because it was his idea, and we were fighting a lot at the time, and I was depressed, and it made me feel like I wasn’t Getting It Done.

At any rate, I love the timer.

There, I said it.

Shut up.

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