Trena Eiden

Officials in Switzerland recently advised couples they should shower together to reduce natural gas consumption. Reading the headline, I thought it was a spoof but no, the Swiss energy minister actually felt it to be a solution. When I told Gar, his immediate response was, “Let’s move to Switzerland!” My head is spinning. This man has seen me naked and still wants to jump into a tub with me. I don’t even want to jump into a tub with me.  

Contemplating Gar’s obvious, albeit crazy devotion to me, I was interested when I saw an article mentioning ways to know if you married the right person. Can we tell? Apparently since Gar doesn’t mind my chubby cheeks, I must have married the right guy, though one who’s a little on the loony side too. How else do you explain his unconditional love? We know I’m a nut, but every once in awhile his goofy side appears too. Last week I made his favorite dessert, cherry cream cheese pie, but I had to adjust it due to being out of cream cheese. The original recipe contains cherry pie filling, cream cheese, condensed milk, vanilla and 1/3 cup lemon juice. Making it the same, except without cream cheese I used sour cream and Greek yogurt and only 1/4 cup of lemon juice. Without telling him what I’d done, I gave him a spoon and asked if he noticed any difference in how it usually tastes? He took two bites, nodded and said, “Ya, there’s lemon juice in this.” Oh duh.  

I know I married the right guy, but did Gar marry correctly? It’s doubtful, and hopefully he’ll never figure it out. He’s kind and generous and has told me more than once he likes my big thighs, so there’s that and he includes me in his plans for the future. I know this because last summer when we left the house, I asked if he wanted me to drive, but he said he would. Then at the end of the meadow he said, “When we get to the gate, you can leave it open, we’ll be right back.” See how that worked? What a planner, and he was thinking of me. So great.  

The article felt that if a man loves how you look, even on your bad days, he’s a good man. What if he can’t tell? I mean, what if he’s grown so used to the sticky-up hair that he just assumes that’s as good as she’s going to get so he’s got to be in it for the long haul?  

Following through on promises is very important and Gar absolutely would do that I think, but I don’t often give him the chance. If I say the garbage smells, and wait, I’ll be waiting awhile. If I bring the trash to the door, he always says he’ll take it out.  And he would, but not in my timeframe so rather than get divorced over trash hauling, I usually take it away. He does keep promises though. When he says he’s going to buy more ammo, it’s a done deal.  

We know a man should really care about us and our needs and I think mine does. A few weeks ago, Gar and I were both sick with the cold and flu, coughing, congested and with an overall feeling of unwellness. One evening, feeling chilly, I threw an extra down comforter on our bed and we snuggled in. Sometime in the dark, wee hours of the morning I was awakened by Gar giving me two rather hard pats to my midsection. Figuring I’d been snoring and he was trying to get me to stop, I rolled over on my side and forgave him. Though it woke me from sound slumber, due to cold medicine I was groggy enough to be able to eventually fall back to sleep. At breakfast that morning, I apologized for snoring and asked if I’d done it all night? He looked at me quizzically, shook his head and said he hadn’t heard me snore at all. I frowned and somewhat crankily told him, “You smacked me across the stomach sometime this morning so I thought you were trying to subtly tell me that I was keeping you awake.” He chortled, “Oh, ha-ha, no, I couldn’t see you under all the covers so I was checking to see if you’d gotten up.” I married the right guy, but I might have to kill him.