"You will find as you look back upon your life that the moments when you have truly lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love." ~Henry Drummond
 

It’s a Good Thing

            He always has to be right. I mean it. I’m not exaggerating, not the least little bit. He told me once, “I always have to win the argument, even if I’m not always right.” Are you kidding me? And everything is an argument with him. It’s a good thing I’m such a saint; most people wouldn’t put up with his over inflated ego, his smug smile, or the way his eyes crinkle obnoxiously at the corners when he laughs at me.

            He never humors me, not ever, even when he knows I’m having a bad day. We were walking home from dinner the other night and I asked him why he refuses to let any of my stupid jokes or irrational thoughts go by unscathed. His reply: “I never humor anyone else, why should I humor you?” Because I’m me, damn it, and that’s the way things are supposed to work. It’s a good thing I’m such a glutton for punishment, or else he would have no one to listen to him play the piano or watch him do a stupid little dance that embarrasses me when we’re out in public, even if it makes me smile.

            In all the time that I have known him, I have only gotten the better of him once.  He was in the middle of teasing me for running into a desk at work when I pointed to his bright orange shirt and said, “You look like a pumpkin.” I finished the Coke I had been drinking and smiled a smug smile that I had learned from the master. The master stared at me, speechless for the first time since I had met him. We looked at each other and laughed because there was nothing else we could do. It’s a good thing he has me around to throw a curveball his way every now and then.

            Last weekend we were at a party and he gave me his jacket because I was cold. When I washed it and returned it to him a few days later, he looked at it with mock disgust and said “Great. Now it’s going to smell like you.”

            “Shut up. I smell like flowers.” I smiled, because I do, and he knows it. It’s a damn good thing.