B is currently out of the country, so what better time to start disclosing his deepest, darkest secrets…right?
This is why I’m going to tell you about his horcrux. Scratch that; I’m going to tell about his horcruxes, because there are two of them.
We’re coming up on our fifth wedding anniversary this Christmas, so my already-confident husband is now allowed to shed a bit more of his tough guy Marine exterior and do crazy things like announcing publicly that he was excited about taking me to see the latest Harry Potter movie. It may have taken me nearly six years to do it, but I have turned B into a Harry Potter fan, and yes, I feel a need to broadcast the news.
Just before B left home a couple of weeks ago I started to get a bit emotional over the fact that we wouldn’t be able to spend the holidays together. For some reason, even though we’ve endured three Marine Corps deployments this short separation was the most difficult to for us to begin. I shed some tears and I may have become a little bit clingy that last week. And when B and I didn’t happen to be simultaneously moping, he did his World’s Best Husband thing and pulled out all the stops to make me feel better. He did all the normal sweet husband stuff and then he turned on the humor.
B has a favorite t-shirt, a gray FFA advertisement that he picked up at Goodwill. He wears his favorite t-shirt all the time, and when I comment about how he shouldn’t wear his favorite shirt all the time, he puffs up his chest and proudly rubs the logo imprinted upon it. The logo in question is the silhouette of a pig. And the pig in question? It has stripes. I’m not sure why the pig has stripes, but I do know that any pig with stripes is worthy of a nickname. And what B knows is that any t-shirt that succeeds as a wife-repelling device definitely deserves a nickname and maybe even its own hanger. So now when we talk about B’s t-shirt we fondly refer to the zebra pig.
B also has a favorite dog, our boy Gromit. From the first day my boys were inseparable. B would rush home immediately after work to spend time with our new puppy, teaching him to sit, stay, fetch, and save the world. And the first morning that I had to go to work and B didn’t I got a surprise in my inbox: an adorable photo of my husband with a little black puppy on his lap, both of them looking eagerly at the camera as they plotted to surprise me. This man and his dog are partners in crime, and in the eyes of each the other can do no wrong.
Two weeks ago in the midst of all my boo hooing over B’s impending trip and of B’s attempts to make me stop moping and laugh instead, he decided to call upon his newly expanded vocabulary and declare that he was leaving me in charge of his two horcruxes. He wore the zebra pig t-shirt and then, instead of packing it in his luggage as he’d planned, he quietly slipped it under my pillow for safekeeping. Then he solemnly declared to me that our boy Gromit would help watch over me while he was away during the holidays. And thus the horcruxes were identified.
But I take back what I said earlier about there being two horcruxes, because when B’s announcement about Gromit and zebra pig succeeded in making me giggle, he decided to share the news that there is a third horcrux: myself.
That’s right, y’all. I’m a horcrux. And that, my friends, is what love looks like.