Just Take the Cookies

I’ve started and never finished several blogs, and that’s just where my life is right now, but I do miss writing.

Yesterday while at work, I had to complete a very in-depth, specific project for my husband, and since he cannot double-click, I was asked to work on it for him.  Initially I thought to my self,  “hmmmm, he never actually finishes any of MY requests, why should I do this for him”?  I’m not sure if I was thinking out loud, but he looked at me and added that if “we” didn’t get it done by Friday, he would not be able to work, or get paid to work for that matter.  Without going into detail about this particular assignment, it would be in mine and probably everyone in my family’s best interest to get it done.  Since my husband is either working or sleeping his entire life, I was going to be on my own basically.

I started the project yesterday, while at work.  I clearly underestimated the length of time (3 hours) and the concentration level I would need to finish the work.  So many specific questions and detailed answers, so little time.

Long story short, I completed it, and with probably only a minute to spare before my 2pm work meeting.  It was mentally exhausting and I constantly asked myself why I felt the need to take care of his business while taking care of my own.  But I did, like I always have for the past 30 years.

On my drive home from work, I called to let him know that he would indeed have a job and be paid, thanks to me.  ME!  I guess I really wanted more than a thank you.  I wanted a kind of answer equivalent to saving somebody’s life.  I wanted to hear that no matter what happens to us in our lives, I was and am a big part of making his so much more easy.  I wanted a level of appreciation so large that you could fill a stadium with the gratitude.

But then again, this might just be what I’ve wanted my entire married life.  Not to just be “good enough” but to be EVERYTHING, even if it were just for the day.

Here’s what I got….”I’ll bring you some cookies”.  My first thought was to quickly check my look in the rear view mirror.  Was I a large, furry blue puppet with big buggy eyes?  Cookies?  Is Cookie Monster expected to double-click?

In order not to cause I fight that I’d never win, I accepted the offer of cookies.  Because I’m happy just to get crumbs, remember?  Here’s how bad it gets, I started dreaming of exactly what kind of delectable treats I deserved for ensuring that he would be able to make a living at a job he absolutely loves.  This is worth something truly decadent. Some ooey, gooey chocolaty surprise.  I can’t wait!

Hours later when he returned from finishing a job and visiting his dad, I heard our garage door go up, and I put my phone down, eagerly awaiting my surprise.  He was rustling some bags around in the kitchen and finally came into the living room.  I tried not to act too jubilant.  He opened a Giant Eagle bag and voila, there they were…..Trefoil Girl Scout Cookies, his favorite.

To be clear, I don’t like Girl Scout Cookies.  They were ordered at least a month ago.  Nothing special, not even bought with ME in mind.  Oh and a box of Do-Si-Dos.  Mother Fucking Do-Si-Do’s.  We used to call them dog biscuits when I was a kid.

Here’s the bad thing.  Here’s the absolutely terrible shell of a woman I’ve become.  Without blinking an eye, without missing a beat, I graciously thanked him for my gifts and told him I wasn’t hungry at the time, but would certainly devour them later.

Because why?  Why have the argument?  Why ask why he doesn’t know that I despise GS Cookies?  Why ask why that each person that came into his view on that specific day go all of his attention, and I got screwin Girl Scout Cookies—for SAVING HIS LIFE.

So what did I tell myself?

Just Take the Cookies.

Please enjoy the music while your party is reached:

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