When You Know You’ve Been Married Too Long (or maybe just the right amount of time)
Madeline and I got away for the weekend. She has booked us a cabin on the Frio River. It’s wonderful, peaceful and very relaxing.
Last night we ventured down the river a ways to the little town of Concan. We each had the special, a very ample serving of catfish and all the trimmings. We were stuffed, so when the girl ask if we cared to order dessert, we had read about Neal’s Dining Room cobblers, so we told her we’d each have one to go. Pecan cobbler was what we each picked.
On the way home we talked about how great it would be with a cup of coffee. Since she doesn’t drink coffee at night, we decided it would taste good in the morning as we set outside enjoying the morning.
I’m an early riser, so I got the coffee going well before she stirred and set and set waiting on her to get up.
Being bored waiting, I decided to have my cobbler. When I finished I went back inside and transferred her cobbler from the little styrofoam container to a bowl. I set the bowl in the refrigerator, way in the back, hidden.
Leaving the empty container sitting right by the coffee pot and the second empty one on the table outside I went on with reading my Reader Digest.
She finally came to life and with cup in hand came out to join me on the porch. We set for awhile, nothing was said. I tried to not make eye contact. I couldn’t take it any longer so I went inside and brought out a small box of store bought cookies we had brought along. I set them on the table. She lovingly thanked me as she started to open the package.
I knew I had her so I reached over and grabbed them and said wait, as I turned to step inside to get her bowl of cobbler. Returning I said, weren’t you angry that I’d eaten your cobbler? She said “I just wasn’t taking the bait, you’ve been to this ole fishing hole too many times”.
I guess that’s what being married for almost 45 years does.