On July 12, 2011 Amanda and I will celebrate our eighth anniversary. In that time we have shared two homes, the birth of two children, and maybe two serious arguments. That’s not bragging, it’s just the way it is. We dig each other. As Dr. Evil would say “She’s my posse,” and I guess I’m hers. Amanda tends to be pretty reserved so one of these stories may surprise you a little, but trust me; it’s very true and accurate.
Story number one is more of a cute inside joke that we have shared for seven years.
Story #1
In late April of 2004 I was scheduled to head out to an eight week school for the Coast Guard. During that time, our contact would probably be pretty limited with only a couple of weekend visits. Coincidently, Amanda was five months pregnant with our first son, Jackson, at this time. Knowing this, my Chief recommended to me that I take a long weekend and spend some time away with my wife. Smart man. After some deliberation, we decided that we would spend the weekend a few hours away in beautiful Charleston, SC.
We didn’t plan much, and didn’t know much about the area, but we headed off to just relax and explore. The waterfront area of Charleston has a cool flea market and some amazing restaurants. We spent most of our day window shopping and talking. It was great. Honestly, we were still considered newlyweds so we were flirting and joking around.
Well, as the day came to a close we decided to take a long walk before we turned in for the evening. The sidewalks in this part of Charleston had trees planted about every twenty feet or so which made for a nice southern feel. Well, as we played around and batted our eyes at each other back and forth both of us seemed to lose track of the trees. We were so entranced with how cute we were and failed to identify that we had drifted near the tree side of the sidewalks. As we joked around Amanda skipped merrily out in front of me and looked back at me to smile. As she turned back forward she was instantly face to face with a low lying branch.
Now, I’m not sure if it was her burgeoning motherly instinct, a personal flight instinct, or years of playing running back for the Dallas Cowboys, but she instantly dropped down, shook her head side to side, and gave a jook move reminiscent of something straight out of a Barry Sanders highlight reel. It happened so fast and with such precision that I stood frozen, in awe, for approximately 1.35 seconds before exploding in laughter. She also made a EHHH sound that reminded me of the sound you make when a bee is circling your head. It was so out of character for her to go in to instant ninja mode. People probably thought we were a couple of drunken college kids as we howled in laughter unable to stand. It was the perfect end to a perfect day.
Story #2
There is an old joke where you ask a man “So, are you still beating your wife?” No answer wins. It ain’t so funny in real life.
In January of that same year our suspicions were confirmed, she was pregnant. We were scared and happy, but mostly scared. We visited our local general practitioner for a blood test and referral for an obstetrician. However, we soon learned that Tri-care (military insurance) would only allow for one location in our area of NC, a teaching hospital in Wilmington. Hmm, teaching hospital sounds interesting. Basically, we would not be assigned to a specific Dr., instead we would see whoever was in that day and possibly a few students would hang around to pick up some pointers. Not ideal, but no other choice.
So off we went for our first appointment. We sat in the lobby with an incredible amount of nervous anticipation for a good half hour waiting for our names to be called. We checked out the other expectant mothers, who curiously did not seem excited at all to be there. As our names were called we followed the nurse in to a very small waiting room which consisted of an examination table, a rolling stool, and a chair off to the side that had a curtain hanging nearby. This curtain was on a half moon track that would segregate the chair from seeing anything in the room. “That’s an odd design.”
After a few minutes a nurse comes in and checks her vitals. Everything looks great. After a few more minutes a middle-aged woman joins us. She's probably in her early fifties, short cropped silver hair, no hospital coat, no stethoscope, wearing sandals. You could almost smell the patchouli. She informs us that we will be seeing her for our first visit. She's a nurse mid-wife. "OK, that's not what I expected." Now, before I go off and offend a bunch of people, I'M NOT KNOCKING MID-WIFERY. Don't get your panties all bunched up. But I am going to smash this one for a few minutes.
As we start to tell her a bit about ourselves, she interrupts with volley #1, which goes something like this:
Dirty Hippie Mid-Wife: "Uhh, how do you feel about natural birth?"
Amanda: "Well, I hadn't really thought about it." (this should be translated as: Jeez, I've been pregnant for four minutes, give me a break!)
Dirty Hippie Mid-Wife: "Well, if you really care about your baby and the natural order of childbirth that womankind has experienced for thousands of years, natural birth is the only way."
Amanda: (polite and uncomfortable giggle) uhh, ok.
Dirty Hippie Mid-Wife: My best friend teaches a Lamaze class three times a week. I'll give you her number. She can really help you remain centered during your journey blah blah blah. It was like she was reading from the Mother Gaea manifesto.
Amanda: Well, I don't do well with pain so.....
Interrupting Dirty Hippie Mid-Wife: Nonsense, it's the only way to go.
So, in our first three minutes of neo-natal healthcare she's managed to makes us feel that we are going to poop on thousands of years of childbirth and has solicited the services (non-hospital) of her buddy to guide us down the right path. We both clam up. But she, however, starts the next line of questioning by asking Amanda if she was comfortable with me remaining in the room. Amanda gives me a puzzled look and says sure.
Hippie now stares me down for a few seconds and proceeds to ask Amanda personal questions. I zone out for a second until I hear question #5 or so.
Dirty Hippie Mid-Wife: "Have there been any instances of physical violence in your home?'
As if in slow motion Amanda gives me a sly smile and throws out her best shot at break the ice humor.
Amanda: "Nahh, he doesn't hit me anymore. (grin)"
I almost fainted as the words came out of her mouth. How in the hell could she have misjudged the situation this badly. My mouth drops open for a moment as she giggles aloud, apparently expecting me and Melissa Etheridge to guffaw right along with her. Wrong.
Before Hippie can say a word I scream, in a pitch three octaves higher than normal, "Amanda!" But before I can finish my sentence, Hippie cuts me off and screams at me to shut my mouth, thinking that I'm going to threaten Amanda. I'm gasping for breath, as Amanda has yet to realize the danger of alleging domestic abuse in a freaking HOSPITAL. It's like screaming "fire" in a theater, or "bomb" on a plane.
Thus ensues a three ring circus of Amanda laughing hysterically as I plead with her to fix it, and hippie screams at me to leave the room. Finally, Hippie whips her head around to Amanda, stares deep in to her eyes, and gurgles "it's ok honey, you can tell me the truth." Amanda is in a situation much like getting tickled during prayer at church. As much as she tried to get serious gain her composure, my panic has sent her into a downward spiral of "point and laugh." After a couple of minutes Amanda explains to Hippie that she made a bad joke, and that I was in no way an abusive husband. But, the damage was done.
Hippie spent the remainder of our visit positioning herself between Amanda and I to ensure her safety. But, we didn't discover the icing on this particularly scary cake until we left the office and Amanda realized that Hippie had slipped a pamphlet on domestic violence in to her purse when we weren't paying attention. I swear, I'm so lucky she didn't taser or pepper spray me right there in the office. Thankfully, that was the last time we had to deal with her.
Plus, once we got in the car, that might have been the hardest I've ever laughed in my entire life, even if I did almost go to jail.
Happy Anniversary! I Love You!
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