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Monday, June 18, 2007 

Ducks and Robes and Things That Moo

Mr. Chaos and I just celebrated seven years of wedded something. Bliss at times, yes. Other times maybe a deep seated resentment tinged with just a hint of tolerance. Most of the time we are quite happy and busy getting caught up in the coaster of life.

This last weekend we escaped from the kids for two whole days (thanks Mom and Dad) and went to stay at the B&B we stayed at during our honeymoon. Most of the weekend was spent shopping, sleeping and eating what we wanted. Really. But there are a few special memories that I will never forget from this past weekend.

The first was on Friday night. As Mr. Chaos will be the first to tell you, he's not a big gift-giving kind of guy. He gives them, and I like them, but it's usually something I told him I wanted, or sent him an e-mail link to buy, or left a cut catalog page laying around sort of thing.

This year he did something so very special I will never, ever forget it.

The weekend after he proposed to me lo those many years ago, he "kidnapped" me for a getaway. That is to say he packed my bags for me, cleared a few days off with my boss and took me here. I ended up falling asleep on him around 6pm, killing any romantic ideas he had for that evening. I woke up the next morning telling him I had the best night's sleep I'd had in years. He hid his disappointment well, and was truly happy I'd managed a decent night's sleep, something I don't do often.

Throughout the years I've wondered what cosmic forces lined up to cause such an excellent sleep. Was it knowing I was with a man I truly loved and admired? Was it that I was secure in the knowledge that he loved me as deeply in return? Was it the sea air? The sound of the waves? Or was it simply this?

Yes, it's true. Over the years I became convinced that this robe was the reason for that sweet slumber. It was the plushest, thickest, softest thing I ever wore, and I coveted one. Frequently.

So you can imagine my reaction Friday night when I opened my gift. Mr. Chaos says first he saw the joy on my face when I realized he remembered I needed a new robe. Then my face crumpled when I saw that famous logo. I bawled. After seven years the man who I have crawled through fire with still cared enough to remember that night 8 years ago. It was a night he'd probably rather forget, wrought with frustration and disappointment, yet he chose to remember it the way it was for me.

In a strange way that gesture touched me more than many other large and small gestures he has made. It sort of summed up the last seven years in a neat little package of 100% Egyptian cotton. All the mundane daily details of the last seven years haven't diminished his love. Suddenly I understood what he had been trying to tell me throughout our married life. That my stretch marks don't matter, the weight gains or losses don't matter, even the fact that I occasionally curse his existence doesn't matter.

What matters is our love. Deep underneath the day to day, it remains. The quality has waxed and waned throughout the years (and I'm still not sure which the moon was on Saturday, sorry hon) but it's there, along with our commitment to one another.

As for the other moments....I think I'll keep them to myself. Not because they are embarrassing or corrupt, but because they are ours and ours alone.

I totally get why the robe meant so much to you! Good on Mr. Chaos. And Happy Anniversary to you!!

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