My husband has one mission each and every single day – to annoy me. His annoyances are intentional and undeniable. Some days it’s the constant poking and slapping of my junk in the trunk while other days it’s the picking me up and twirling me around as if we’re auditioning for Dancing with the Stars. He also enjoys leaving crumbs scattered on the kitchen countertops and quite frequently requests I remain in the bathroom while he showers, never mind the fact I’m in the middle of preparing dinner. My response usually graduates from a playful smile to a roll of the eyes to a stern “Chase Taylor” warning. I can’t fault him for his efforts. He warned me in his wedding vows that he would strive every day to get on my next-to-last nerve. He knows to stop before getting to the last one. Although his daily attempts to get me flustered are usually successful, this past week he demonstrated behavior so neurotic and absurd that it deserves public recognition.
On Tuesday, Chase called me on his way home from work for our routine evening conversation to tell me he had stopped at Sonic to pick up a Route 44-sized Strawberry milkshake. It was odd, to say the least, considering he rarely visits a fast food joint out of impulse. When he walked into the house, his gigantic milkshake was in the form of a beautiful bouquet of flowers – just for me. Those flowers fulfilled my sweet tooth unlike any milkshake could.
Saturday morning I woke up to breakfast in bed. I’m not joking. I thought I was still dreaming when he came waltzing through the bedroom with a plate full of eggs, waffles and fresh fruit. I kept looking for a side of reality somewhere on the plate. I was tempted to ask the stranger in the bed next to me when my husband would return home, but I figured it was best to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Perhaps the sweetest token of affection bestowed upon me this past week was a gift so thoughtful and meaningful, I will always cherish it. I enjoy wine. Whether I need a relaxer, picker upper or just the need to feel sophisticated, wine does the trick. Two weeks after Chase and I started dating I told him I was going to marry him. I know I broke all the rules. I appeared desperate and certainly wasn’t playing hard-to-get. The words were released from my mouth partly due to the fact that I knew he was the one and also due to the fact that I had consumed a bottle of wine.
The night of our engagement, Chase bought a celebratory bottle of wine. Long after the wine was emptied, the bottle remained a staple in our collection of “us” things. You know the little collectibles you hold on to in order to remember a certain place and time. I wanted to save that wine bottle regardless if it was just rolling around the useless cabinet above our microwave.
Unknown to me, Chase sent our wine bottle to Christine Masters with Masters Glass Art to have it melted into a gorgeous spoon rest. Not only does it make a decorative accessory for our kitchen counter but it is now a practical memento from the night of our engagement. It was such a unique and unexpected testament to our relationship.
So, before you recycle (Please recycle!) your old wine or champagne bottle, consider turning it into a functional keepsake. It’s an inexpensive way to create a priceless heirloom to remember your special occasion or to give as a gift.
As for my husband, his shower of sweetness this past week has increased my threshold of tolerance when dealing with his attempts to annoy me. It has also reminded me that our marriage is somewhat like a fine bottle of wine, getting better with time.
P.S. – Receiving this beautiful spoon rest has reminded me that I still need to purchase one for my dear friend Aimee since I accidently dropped and shattered hers at our annual “Thanxmas” get-together. Unfortunately I can’t blame it on the wine, I’m just clumsy sometimes.