Ever wonder if anyone thinks you’re a little weird?
Or maybe they think that’s just normal for you… so they don’t pay much attention anymore?
I hadn’t considered this relating to me.
I try hard to be normal.
But after reading my recent column about the fire that had been set early one morning at our suburban house many years ago, I began to see something interesting.
You see, my column is a form of therapy for me… by the time I can laugh about something and write about it… I’m pretty much OK.
Well, that column recalled my reaction to a newspaper report on the fire and how Paul was written up as the hero as “Schluter himself smelled smoke and put out the fire.” No mention of me and that I was the one who actually did it!
But what got me to thinking was the part I wrote about stomping out the fire on our front lawn clad only in my shorty pajamas. I kept yelling for Paul to throw me my robe and finally it came flying out and hit me. I put it on and went across the yards to where the firemen and neighbors were as they had just put out that fire which had more of a head start than ours.
What I got to pondering was, why did Paul go back to bed after throwing me my shorty robe?
Now consider this: your wife is on your front lawn on a suburban street on a Sunday morning yelling for you to throw her a robe. Burnt newspapers are strewn across the yard.
You were sleeping but you heard her calling and you respond by getting up, finding her robe and throwing it outside to her. And then you go back to bed. No questions asked.
This is normal?
Paul just grins as he recalls the episode. Maybe he was just sleepy or maybe he had stopped trying to figure out just why I do things. (It’s been 47 years of marriage now.)
Ya just gotta love the guy!
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