Just be willing to stay.

“You can go.  I just want you to be willing to stay.”

No, this isn’t a country lyric.  This is the pleasure of being a woman.

Poor Brian was dealing with a fairly sensitive Square Piece last night.  (Let’s just say that certain circumstances are inconveniently aligning with the week of The Dropsies.)

I had canceled plans with some girlfriends in order to spend more time with my hubby.  Brian and I were going to go on a date.  Unfortunately, Brian had forgotten that he had committed to attending a men’s meeting at church.  In addition to that, my last client was 20 minutes behind and Brian was going to be late picking me up.  So that teeny window of time to grab a bite before his meeting was shot.

Feeling a rumbly in my tumbly, instead of going out to eat, I horked down two corn dogs while waiting for my last client.  (Isn’t my boss so kind to leave corn dogs in the freezer?)

Once home, I headed into the house as Brian asked our neighbor, Ben, for help getting his shiny, new scooter off of the truck.  (Something about incredible gas mileage and saving $3,000.)

I moped.  I wanted a shiny, new toy.  Not only did I not have a shiny, new toy, I haven’t even had my regular “toy” for the last two weeks as Brian’s brother’s been in need of a vehicle.

I poured a glass of wine.

I nearly crumbled under the disappointment of having to retrieve my terrified hound from the furthest corner of our rainy yard as I had already put on my robe and slipped off my shoes.  (She’s not a fan of men.)

I grabbed both of Brian’s hands and looked at him with pleading eyes.

Me, “What is this thing your going to tonight?”

Brian, “It’s a men’s discipleship group.  They’re handing out books tonight.  I don’t have to stay the whole time.”

Me, “Why do you have to go at all if you’re only going to be there a minute.  Can’t Mike bring back the book?”

Brian, “Yeah.  Or I could ask Jacob.  Do you not want me to go?  I don’t have to go.”

Me, “You can go.  I just want you to be willing to stay.”

(Have you ever said something so silly?)

Brian’s eyes squinted at me as if to say, “Are you losing it?”

Me, “I just needed to hear it.  Just hurry back… unless staying means you’ll be a better husband or a better man of God.  Now can you hand me my laptop?”

The strange thing about Brian having to skip out is that I planned on being lazy with him.  There’s something about my personality, however, that has a very hard time accomplishing this lazy task on my own.  (“Martha, Martha.”)  I need a buddy.  Just like some people need a gym buddy or they’ll never work out, I need a lazy buddy or I’ll never relax.

Frankly, I’m too pooped to be creative… and too inspired to justify feeling too pooped.