But He MEANS Well!...

Big Daddy has a tendency to say things before thinking…or at the very least; he says things before thinking them through…without weighing the “wifely consequences.” Big Daddy certainly has had his share of “foot in mouth” disease, especially in our early years. Although he was ALWAYS well-meaning, he was frequently opening his mouth…and inserting his foot.

There was the time I, like most women, became dissatisfied with my appearance for one reason or another. It must have been while “Friends” was still on the air, because I exclaimed, in the style of Chandler, “Could my face BE any fatter?!” To which BD replied…

“Oh Brownie…that’s NOT POSSIBLE!” Which, upon realizing what he meant to say vs. what he ACTUALLY said was followed up with “OH NO! Oh! I’m SO SORRY! NO WAIT! That’s TOTALLY NOT what I meant…” What he MEANT to say was, "Your face is not fat."

Of course, I KNEW what he was trying to say, the poor guy is an extremely talented writer, but when it comes to articulating his thoughts and emotions…well, not so much. Running the risk of sounding TOTALLY sexist…he is a TOTAL “dude,” and that’s part of why I love him so much.

Then there was the time, shortly after we watched the movie “Babe” (about the porcine hero who goes on to become herding animal on a sheep farm,) that BD asked for a piece of gum as we were driving together in his car. I was pregnant at the time, and thoroughly enjoyed rubbing my ever expanding belly. Being the dutiful (pregnant, may I remind you…) wife, I gave him his gum…and even took it out of the wrapper for him and fed it to him like a coach spraying water in a boxer’s mouth. What was my thanks? The last line from the movie…

“That’ll do pig…”

Which came out more like…

“That’ll do piggggaaaahhhhhhh oH NO! SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY, SORRY!”

I know how his mind works. I know HE knew I FREAKIN’ LOVED that movie (and still do…) and I know he thought (in his mind, somehow…) that he was being cute, because the pig in the movie was cute. But saying “That’ll do pig” to your PREGNANT wife? BAD idea. Since I, of course, knew what he intended, I instantly forgave him…TO MYSELF…but I let on and on that I was horrified and made him my slave for weeks….

He’s actually been pretty good for a while now. In fact, he’s been simply wonderful. I adore him, I love him more and more everyday and when I look back at the photos from our wedding day (I was 24 years old, he was 25…) we look just like babies. Two baby deer caught in the headlights…ha ha! So you can imagine my surprise this past Sunday when, after all these years, BD got his foot caught in his mouth, once again.

For the past two years, I have gotten pretty heavy into nutrition and fitness which has resulted in a net weight loss (after both babies, not counting “baby weight”) of about 30 lbs. Which, on someone who only stands a mere 5 foot 2, is pretty significant. And probably a little shocking to folks who knew me when I was “fluffier.” I discovered, two years ago, that I DO, in fact, have a clavicle, deltoids, triceps and abs, even. This past holiday season, I rediscovered how much I enjoy EATING, and gained a little back. I’ve worked VERY hard, and I feel like I’m finally back in “the game.”

I’m actually pretty happy and satisfied with my weight. It’s taken 33 years, but I think I’m FINALLY in control of my body. I finally feel like I don’t have a go-go music worthy booty and an upper body lacking any and all definition. I love that I can go bra-less and not give myself a black-eye trotting after the dog. I always viewed my chest as “extra fat,” a constant reminder that I was out of shape. I love my new, small, ta-tas…and let me tell you…self-breast exams have never been easier…Plus, according to BD, he’s NEVER been a “boob man,” so who cares?! It’s been a slow process, so perhaps I didn’t truly realize the gravity of the situation…

So I worked on the farm on Sunday, and I was feeling great about my day, having milked the entire herd BY MYSELF; feeling pretty damn lucky that I learned how to do it from the best in business…a true agricultural outlier…Master teach Grasshopper everything she know…Milk on, milk off, milk on, milk off. I was tired, dirty and drinking wine. And that just about sums up true happiness to me. I stripped off my clothes and headed to the shower, followed by Big Daddy, who sits on the edge of the soaking tub as I hit the shower on the other side of the bathroom. He has made it a Sunday Night Ritual to talk to me about my day and about the week ahead during my shower…not to “ogle” me, so much, as to just spend some true and authentic “husband/wife” time together. I was already in the shower and getting ready to open my mouth to talk when BD started singing…Yes, singing. It was a familiar song…but words I did not recognize. Maybe he didn't realize how much weight I've lost recently, or what body parts I'd lost it from... It was to the tune of “Where Did All the Cowboys Go?” by Paula Cole. But the words went like this:

“Where did all the BOOBIES go-ooo-ooo---oh?”

Oh dear.