Opportunities to make fun of Kevin don't come often, people.
I'm taking advantage.
You know those marriages where the wife is always right? And the husband expects this? And then everyone is happy?
I didn't end up in one of those marriages.
We are both opinionated, stubborn, head-strong people, well-educated, as well as smart within our particular areas of expertise. With Kevin, if you are playing an updated version of Trivial Pursuit with pop culture questions you will totally need him on your team to answer anything that comes up about hip hop or rap. Meanwhile if you need a Gilmore Girls or Jane Austen novel expert, I'm the one to come to.
In those areas, we bow to the other's authority.
In many, many others we butt beads.
I knew I was in trouble when, while we were engaged and picking out our first set of bedding, Kevin had an opinion! And, like, vetoed stuff I wanted. Um, as the female don't all the decorating and design choices automatically fall to me? Apparently not. (Although, in this house I did get him to agree to a lavender-walled master bedroom and that's something, I think.)
He disagrees with how I cut tomatoes and loves to make fun of how I eat corn on the cob.
I'm a little hen-pecked, I tell ya. Or in this case I guess it would be rooster-pecked?
But I'm a strong woman and I use my middle finger a lot, so it's all good.
(Gasp. A missionary wife did NOT just write that.)
Ok, so on with my little window of opportunity to make fun of Mr. Always Right.
Last night we went to our First St. Lucie Mets game as a family of five. Kevin has taken Kaden and Blue many times, but it was mine and Toby's first go. Of course Toby fell asleep on the way there. Of course he did.
So... I pulled up and let out the biggest three boys. Kevin, upon getting out, instructed me to, "Look for them at third base around the second level." No problem. I've been in this stadium many times dropping off and picking up Kaden from baseball camp. I know where third base is. I proceed to park, wake up Toby, deal with his I've-been-woken-up grumpiness, feed him a little dinner (we ate Tropical Smoothie wraps while he was asleep), and get him going.
We walked up and skipped the entrance that would have dropped us over first base, gave our three extra tickets away and continued to pacify the growing anxiety of my three-year-old. After a stop at the potty we headed over to third base and started looking. And we kept looking. And kept looking.
I told Toby we are looking for Daddy and Kaden and Blue and he wanted to find them and I can tell, I can feel, that his anxiety is growing because we haven't found the. Plus noise and people and smells and... we need to hurry up and find them. He's getting too big for it, but I held Toby on one hip (because at this point if I let him walk he'd be throwing himself to the ground) and manage to fish out my phone from my Rhode-Island-sized purse.
Me: We're at third base. Where are you?
He: We're here. Just look around.
Me: We have been looking around. Toby's getting anxious. WHERE ARE YOU?
He: (With that you-are-being-stupid edge to his voice) Do you even know where third base is?
Me: YES I KNOW WHERE THIRD BASE IS!
He... He who played t-ball and then baseball for... forever. He who played intermural softball at UF on a team that won National Champs. He who is currently assisting his oldest son's baseball team. He said (After a moment of silence where he inevitably mourned his own stupid mistake.): I meant first base.
Me: I am SO making fun of you for this.
And because I also know where first base is, we walked right over to them, but luckily, on the way, I passed someone Kevin works with and got my very first chance to tell the story.
And then we were together.
No, we weren't really there to watch baseball. Apparently we were there to let the boys run around at the top of the stadium and stress this mama out that they might be hit by a foul ball.
We also met Klutch.
The final score ended up with the Mets falling to the Palm Beach Cardinals. Booooooo!
But, it ended up being a successful night. New experience for Toby. Fun for Kaden and Blue and ammo in my arsenal for when Kevin critiques my tomato cutting. No fingers will be raised. I'll just smile and say, "At least I know where third base is."
Marriage. Fun stuff.