Sunday, January 29, 2012

When my husband lifted me off my feet...

I had a nostalgic few days recently. My husband carried me (the right I bitterly gave up after our daughter came into our lives). And without me even uttering a word. Ooomy!
He didn't stop at that. He held me tight and let me lean over his shoulders as I strolled in full public view. Wow! When was the last I did that! I don't even want to recollect.
He returned from work early, without me requesting. And fed me, too. What more can I ask of my man!
Yes, 13 years into our marriage and the zing is still on.
All I did was soak it all in - with a groan!
And the moment he heard me, he also ensured the home front was perfect.
The shoes on rack; Tie on hanger; TV volume minimal; Remote controls in place...
Barbies, Rapunzels and fairies in toy boxes; paints and brushes back after use; school projects completed without a hullabaloo...
Breakfast, lunch and dinner ready before I got to plan even!
All I did was soak it all in - with a moan!
And the moment he heard me, he rushed to pick up the hot water bag.
Wonder why the moans and groans ended in hot water bags? Well, the above mentioned moments are but the wonderful side-effects of suffering a sore back. Rather a terribly ill-behaved lower vertebrae.
So even as my medic has warned me not to show up at his door for the next two years, if I intend to walk upright when I grow old, I wouldn't mind peeping in to savour the wonderful moments.
But the practical and more saner mind in me says to back off. How about faking one at regular intervals. Harm to none!
So yesterday when the husband returned from work in the evening, I let out a sigh, eager to devour those wasted romantic moments I couldn't enjoy last week.
He just sat looking at me. Gave him some time to recoup and unwind and let out another sigh! "Why the hell can't you exercise? I didn't see you exercise yesterday, nor the day before. Don't forget what the orthopaedic said. Once the pain reduces you are back to..." And so he went on and I didn't know where the romantic feelings fled to until I stopped my thought process and began to pay attention to what was being said.
When I noticed his helplessness, my guilt knew no bounds.

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