Several years ago I had the delightful good fortune to take a year off from work. At the time, the stock market was going vertical and the phrase 'irrational exuberance' hadn't yet entered the lexicon, so I and my partner thought it was entirely likely that I would never work again. Instead, she would continue to work for several years, and I would pick up the slack at the house -- doing more cooking, cleaning the house, running required errands, and so forth.
One of the things that I would do was vacuum the house. When I saw in a comic's column (I think it was Dave Barry) that he would simulate vacuuming by dragging two sticks in a parallel path through the house, I recognized a kindred spirit. Although I knew that vacuuming did something, it wasn't always apparent to me what that something was. But since my partner valued it, I did it. I value her opinion, and I like it when she is happy.
This past weekend, I got to do something very strange (to me) in pursuit of that same goal. I earnestly and seriously told her that I thought it would be a good idea for her to spend time while we were at Nordstrom's to take advantage of their 'bra fitting specialist'. She'd mentioned wanting to do it, every so often, but she was reluctant to spend the money. Her comfort was, and is, very important to me, so I urged her to do it, and she finally agreed. After it was all over, she told me that it was a good idea, because it turned out that she had been wearing the wrong size. I said that I was pleased that she would be more comfortable now. She informed me that, actually, she couldn't feel a difference; it just looked better to her now. Felt the same, looked better.
Can't you tell if you're wearing the wrong size? What exactly did the fitter do, then? I decided not to ask. Even though it sounded to me like the fitter had done the equivilent of dragging two sticks, it seemed a good idea to just accept it. For one thing, I don't wear them, so how could I possibly know what its like, or whats important to someone who does? For another, even if the fitter really did just drag the sticks, my partner is happier now. That's worth a lot. That the fitter did something worthwhile was one of the things I just have to accept, like parallel lines not intersecting.
At least, in a Euclidean universe, she's happy, I'm happy.
2 comments:
I'm told, by Jill, that it does make a difference and is important. Similarly when I had my yearly underpants adjustment and fitting. But best not travel that route, eh?
Have a great Christmas - and Happy Blogging in 2005
XXX
Amazing what you can go twenty-plus years and not know about your wife... let alone that its actually something thats worthwhile to know. On the way, home, I of course made the expected scurrilous comments about what profession I might want to take up after retirement, and she of course smiled and offered to drive me to the employment screening. She knows me very well.
Happy 2K+5 to you, as well.
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