Moonfly Kids

This was the sight that greeted me this morning.

The most beautiful mesquite tree in our yard was split in two…rent down the middle with an ugly gash.

 

 

OH NO! I frantically dialed DH, tears falling, approaching the verge of hysteria. I am very good at approaching the verge of hysteria. DH needs to talk me back down.  This is DH’s most dearest job.

BUT HE DOESN”T ANSWER!! gasp! Can’t he sense disaster…right here in our backyard?

I hang up and dial his office, get put on hold for a fucking ETERNITY until he answers.

“The mesquite tree in our backyard fell over.” I sob without preamble.

Pause. DH is evaluating the extent of my hysteria and treading lightly.  He is a very smart man. The wrong words can cause sudden death.

“It’s OK, honey.  I’ll come home early and clean it up.” DH is brilliant for understanding how much I hate messes.  But he is missing the point and needs more prompting.

“But it was my favorite tree, you know, my favorite, the really pretty one that shades the yard.” 

Pause again, but not a long one. He gets that my very sacred special place in the backyard has been violated and I feel the loss deeply.

“Honey, don’t worry, it’s a young tree and it will grow back, maybe better and stronger than before. I will be home soon to take care of it.” He has a soft and sweet voice, full of sympathy.  He loves my tree too.

My husband is the best husband in the world.

 

This entry was posted on Saturday, September 27th, 2008 at 11:39 pm and is filed under Family. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.