Surprise visit from Yancey today. Miraculously, as is wont to happen lately, we stepped into a parallel universe outside of obligation. I canceled an appointment, the babysitter came, and Yancey and I caught happy hour at a favorite haunt. I'm tying to save up some decisions and tasks for when he's home, otherwise I'll steamroll right on through and lock him out of everything. (We are both fiercely autonomous, which helps us and hurts us.)
Today, I had saved up some Christmas decisions, some relationship coaching (he gives the BEST advice), a Costco trip (a treat not to have to lug the dog food or say "no" to the holiday samples just on my own willpower), and told Loretta, "Dad will do your nails when he comes." Which he is doing now, playing Ray Lamontagne and coming up with some sort of miniature holiday scheme for her fingers.
I always say that I was saved from myself in the total folly of marrying when I was 21. (?!#*?) As it is, there's no separating us now, and I get to sit here blogging while he opens 20 different colors of nail polish and pronounces the whisky sour "perfect."
I hear the word "interdependent" used a lot lately. I suppose that's a nice, egalitarian word. But there's no one that takes care of me like he does. I fiercely resist it most of the time, but it sure feels good to give in sometimes. Russ Hudson reminds us that "Receptivity is an energy, too!" Amen. I'll take it.