meet me in the middle

My sweetie and I have a happy marriage. Very happy. Gleefully happy.

A true testiment to how solid a marriage we have is how we seem to have overcome a major difference between us. I am a messy, messy person. When I'm working on something, I leave masses of mess in my wake. While I do love it when my house is clean, I can exist quite contently in a sea of mess. I've always, always been this way. Ask my mother. And then ask my father. My sisters and brother will most likely testify of the same.

My sweet love on the other hand is someone who appreciates order. I don't want to call him a "neat freak" or anything mean like that. So I'll just give you an example so you'll see exactly what I mean. For Christmas or some other holiday, someone gave him a manicure set in a nice little leather case. There's a place for the manicure scissors, clippers, file, etc. You can be sure on any given day that this manicure set is in the neat drawer in his bedside table...and with all of the elements neatly tucked in their designated places. Now once and a while, I'll need those cute little scissors to cut a tag off a newly purchased article of clothing, for instance. I don't have to imagine where I might have put any of the dozens of scissors I have scattered around the house. I know with certainty where I can find a cute little pair of scissors. I try to remember to put them back but sometimes I set them down among my mess and forget to replace them. Let's take such an instance when I forgot to replace them. A couple of days later, my sweetie is preparing himself for bed when he sees that his nails need a little attention. He looks in his drawer for his little case...and there it is, open and with one thing missing. He does not like this. He lets me know. Since there is no one else living here he knows that it is my doing and I have to confess and return the little scissors. There is tension. But I tell him I will try to do better. And I do...try.

But here's the beauty of it all...We don't let this one difference come between us. I try to be less messy. He tries, very hard bless his soul, to not let it get to him. So we meet in the middle most times. There are messy places in the house...and there are perfectly orderly places in the house. Sometimes there are more of one than the other.