When we first got married Scott and I were taking a shower together and I noticed that he would stand with one arm across himself and one hand, palm up, outstretched into the falling water. I teased him about this, as any good wife should, and he said,
"I like the way water feels when it hits my hand," not much to argue with there. So I tried it and turned one hand up to the water, didn't really make an impression on me.
Today as part of Father's Day we went to the beach with some friends of ours. One of the strange parts of the east coast is that all the parking next to the water is reserved for residents, so if you do not have a special sticker you either have to pay an exorbitant amount or park far away and walk. We opted for the walk option. As the men were running off to get the car and my friend and I were walking back up the beach to end our day I noticed that Emma was wet. She had only been in the very cold water briefly and quite awhile ago, so the level of wetness that she was didn't seem congruent with her contact with the water. I lefted my fingers to my nose and sniffed. Poop juice. As we walked and waited the poop juice slowly leaked into my shirt and across my side spreading to about a six inch circle of poopiness.
Emma fell asleep on the car ride home. Now back in Colorado we would have just left her in the car in our garage and put the monitor out in the garage or ran out periodically to check on her. We can't do that on Gordon campus. We tried. Someone called Public Safety on us. So when we pulled into our parking lot Scott started to say,
"Okay there's a soccer game on TV,"
"You know I'm covered in poop,"
"Yes, I know, hear me out, I think I can watch it on the laptop," so I ran in and brought him the computer while he sat in the car with our sleeping child and watched his soccer game.
I got to shower undisturbed.
I started to rush myself through my shower and out to fulfill responsibilities that I am sure that I have lurking for me, and then I stopped. Emma was asleep in the car with Scott, she was fine. I leaned back against the shower wall and took a moment. In that moment I looked down and noticed that both my hands were held palm up to the water, almost in a beseeching pose. I smiled. I let the water tickle my hands.
I had been told when I got married that eventually you would start to trade personality traits. Apparently through the osmosis of living my life with Scott I have picked up on this habit of Scott's, without even knowing it.
The first time he changes subjects mid-sentence or has emotional blow-up because he lost a sock I am going to do a little jig.