Last week, as we drove for hours across the wide open spaces of the Oklahoma prairie, I glanced over to catch a look at the profile of my husband. His strong hands gripped the steering wheel, and his furrowed brow glanced back and forth between the highway and the screen of our dashboard navigational system.
I settled back into my seat with a sigh of contentment, and I began to think Deep Thoughts About The State Of My Marriage. What a manly man I have! He's just as comfortable behind an Excel spreadsheet as he is behind a campfire. He takes such good care of us. He never complains.
And, certain that my good man must be thinking Equally Profound And Loving Thoughts, I spoke his name.
Me: Hubs?
Hubs: [Absently] Hmmmm?
Me: You know, one of the things I love most about you is that you're just uncomplicated. I mean, you just make a decision and stick with it--you don't overanalyze and fret and make things as messy as I do. And I love that about you, so much. [I reached over and gently rubbed his neck.] Don't you agree? Wouldn't you say you're uncomplicated?
Hubs: [Thoughtful pause.] Earl.
Me: Pardon?
Hubs: [Pointing at the nav system and chuckling in way that was entirely too reminiscent of a junior-high boy.] Earl. We're about to drive through a town called Earl.
Uncomplicated? I rest my case.
