The Argument

My husband and I had a rather loud disagreement last night.  We really disagreed.  Loudly. L-O-U-D-L-Y.  Anyway, in the midst of our arguing he was busying himself in the kitchen, opening the fridge, closing the fridge, getting a knife, washing the knife, doing some other things.

All the while, I was standing my ground, digging in my heels firmly on my side of the argument.  Finally he announced that he was going to bed.

About a half hour later, I followed him to bed.  I got undressed and slipped in next to him.  I could feel him breathing that certain way that tells me he is fast asleep. I rolled over and slept as well, though not very soundly.

This morning I awoke to an empty bed.  I suppose Lew got up and left without wanting to wake me, either to be polite or for fear of restarting our argument.

I had some appointments in the next town this afternoon, so I wasn't going to be home for lunch today.  I went to the kitchen to get some breakfast.  When I opened the fridge I discovered that he had placed a brown bag with a homemade lunch in the fridge.  For me.

That's what he was doing while we were arguing.  He was making my lunch because he knew I would need something to eat today.  Even while I was yelling at him, he was taking care of my needs.

It got me thinking ...

If the tables were turned, I'm not so sure I would have done the same for him.

He doesn't know it yet, but when he comes home from work I'm going to give him one of his favorite treats.  And I'm not going to stop until he's satisfied, if you get my drift.