Hubs~ Did you look at the hatches?
Me~ Of course I did. They look great.
Hubs~ Seriously, did you really look at them?
Me~ Yes, I looked at them.
Hubs~ Well… what do you think?
Me~ Babe, they look really great. Good job.
Hubs~ You didn’t look at them. Did you?
Me~ Yes, they are FANTASTIC. Truly. Awesome job.
Hubs~ Whatever, you don’t get it. It’s like your yoga. Some pose… it’s cool and all, but… you don’t get it.
He goes outside. I presume to admire his hatches (that I don’t get). Two minutes later he comes back in the house with said hatches.
He made me really look at them. And, well, he did do an awesome job. He shaped them, sanded them, sanded them again, and again. Painted them, sanded, sanded, sanded, and painted. I could see my reflection, and apparently there is another coat of paint to go on.
I’m not going to lie. I don’t have that kind of patience.
But, he was right.
Sunday morning yoga is my thing. And every Sunday I come home and try to show him whatever new asana I have been working on. He really doesn't care, but he humors me... every single time. So, tomorrow, our conversation will just be flipped around. AND then he will go back out in the garage to his hatches.
It dawned on me when he made the yoga comment, though. I practice yoga. And every day I mark my progress. He is marking progress. He is taking pride… just like I do when I come home from class and show off, what Coco calls, my new trick. Me with my yoga, my man and the boat. Neither of us will ever be done. But, every day we move forward. It becomes more a part of us. I will never get there within my practice, but I will always be putting in the work. Working on, living on, dreaming on a boat are no different.
I get it.
Me~ Of course I did. They look great.
Hubs~ Seriously, did you really look at them?
Me~ Yes, I looked at them.
Hubs~ Well… what do you think?
Me~ Babe, they look really great. Good job.
Hubs~ You didn’t look at them. Did you?
Me~ Yes, they are FANTASTIC. Truly. Awesome job.
Hubs~ Whatever, you don’t get it. It’s like your yoga. Some pose… it’s cool and all, but… you don’t get it.
He goes outside. I presume to admire his hatches (that I don’t get). Two minutes later he comes back in the house with said hatches.
He made me really look at them. And, well, he did do an awesome job. He shaped them, sanded them, sanded them again, and again. Painted them, sanded, sanded, sanded, and painted. I could see my reflection, and apparently there is another coat of paint to go on.
I’m not going to lie. I don’t have that kind of patience.
But, he was right.
Sunday morning yoga is my thing. And every Sunday I come home and try to show him whatever new asana I have been working on. He really doesn't care, but he humors me... every single time. So, tomorrow, our conversation will just be flipped around. AND then he will go back out in the garage to his hatches.
It dawned on me when he made the yoga comment, though. I practice yoga. And every day I mark my progress. He is marking progress. He is taking pride… just like I do when I come home from class and show off, what Coco calls, my new trick. Me with my yoga, my man and the boat. Neither of us will ever be done. But, every day we move forward. It becomes more a part of us. I will never get there within my practice, but I will always be putting in the work. Working on, living on, dreaming on a boat are no different.
I get it.
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