Fred, King of Storytellers

Per my 6/1 post, these are some re-posts in honor of Father's Day...

Fred, King of Storytellers - February 2009

Let me just tell you about Fred Stephens, and how he rocks the family story-telling. Probably seems like an ill-deserved, or at least not-particularly-desirable and easily-gained trait to many. Here's where the man I married defies the rules:

1. You would think that the ideal story-reading/listening layout includes facing the same direction. Sophie and I, propped on one end of the couch, just enjoyed a fantastic tale with Fred, facing opposite. Who cares? Me. Because I can watch his face while he reads that story to our child. I can think of few things more endearing.

2. Have you done the voices for a children's book lately? Yes, but have you really done the voices? This man can do monsters with the best of them, toddlers with the worst of them, siblings, parents, grandparents, chefs, shopkeepers and farmers. They're all unique, and I love them all nearly as much as Sophie does. Cue the belly laugh.

3. It's all about timing, particularly when it comes to sharing the pictures in a book. You have no idea, unless you know what I mean. This man I married reads the book (see #3), pauses with the utmost eloquence, slowly rotates the book and waits. He waits 15 to 20 seconds. Seems brief? Try it. He waits for the five year old (and her mother) to glance rapidly at both pages. He waits while we scan the right hand page (out of order), taking in the details. He waits while our eyes move to the left hand page, and watches our faces as things fall into place chronologically with the story. When he is certain we've taken it all in, he rotates the book again, turns the page, and continues. You don't have the foggiest idea what this means and what it signifies, unless you do.

Marriage is a funny thing - it's like A Tale of Two Cities: the best of times, the worst of times. Mostly the best of times. You go about your business, at times living like roommates. But then there are the evenings when you prepare a meal together, discipline a child with the same virtues in mind, or your connection boils down to eye contact over the top of a book read aloud to your child as you all sprawl limbs over limbs and tangled blankets on a far-too-small couch. These are the best of times.

The Aspirational Husband

In honor of the approach of Father's Day, I'm reposting some past musings on my husband as well as my Dad and Grandpa, written between 2000 & 2009:

The Aspirational Husband - September 2009

It's a well-documented fact that I married beyond myself. In fact, I'm reminded of it enthusiasticly whenever spending time around my family - you know, the ones who raised me and would prefer I had turned out a bit more like the man I married. But hey - at least I have compensated by having someone of his caliber around, with the obvious confession that I will never BE that person.

Forgive me the indulgence ("although, it IS my blog," she said, saucily), but my husband is a rock star. As a case in point, he renovates century-old houses with the best of 'em. Having hung around this man since he was 20, I'm a bit unclear on when he slipped away to acquire these skills, although most certainly unperturbed about it. I should point out that his living in the aforementioned century-old house is another asset - his indulgence of me. Pretty sure he would not have chosen that particular path of his own accord.

Speaking of indulgences, Fred Stephens knows which battles to fight. In our stunningly remodeled chocolate-brown dining room with the lovely hardwood floors and old built-in cabinet, we sat around at dinner the other night and he remained mildly composed about the fact that the room is unbearable in August. Well, unbearable to him. I don't quite notice the apparent stifling heat. Sophie, gamely, chimed in with her recommendation that he replace the current light fixture with a fan. Fred explained that he would not do that in order to avoid war, and would perhaps just add a door to block the heat from the kitchen. Confused, she took the bait and inquired as to how a light fixture switch could incite battle. Fred calmly explained to her that Mommy adored and would never agree to part with the old-fashioned light fixture in the dining room, and as such, he would simply go the door route.

In a rare moment of silence and not contributing to the conversation, I smiled to myself.

I'm definitely maddening and Fred Stephens is surely the sainted one in our household, but he gives me a victory or two once in a while. While I have married above my means, I definitely think this man deserves a contract extension. I've officially moved him from an annual renegotiation to a five year reassessment - he's a keeper.