Marriage – a wonderful, holy union between a man and a woman. Just turn on the television and you don’t have to flip for long before finding a show dedicated to brides, weddings, or wedding planners. I’ll tell you what I haven’t seen, though – a show about a woman who grew up with sisters, then marries a wild, hairy mountain man.
As if living with a man wasn’t a big enough surprise – the eating-in-bed, peeing-in-the-backyard, lounging-in-underwear – no one ever mentioned that I’d have to learn to speak Yooper Stewart-ese. I knew when we met that we had different styles of communication, but I wasn’t prepared for a lifetime of learning.
My first clue should have been when we announced our engagement. We picked a date, venue, and attendants. I bought a dress and all the accessories, which I showed to YS’s sister. You would have thought I was showing her a Yeti pelt. Why?
Me to my family: YS and I are getting married.
YS to his family: We’re thinking about getting married.
There you have it, the fundamental difference between YS and me – absolutes and possibilities. Seven years ago we left one rental for another. Our first landlord was pretty shocked when I told him I’d leave the keys in the house at the end of the month (two weeks away). Why? Because YS gave our notice: We’re thinking about moving closer to my job …
Those events happened in our first year of togetherness, so I should know better by now, right? Yeah, right.
YS is a LEGO man. He creates, plays, researches – if it’s LEGO, he loves it. Most recently, he’s been buying and selling them. To be more accurate, he’s been buying them – lots and lots of them. It finally reached the point that I had to put my foot down, no more buying until he starts selling.
I should have been more specific.
Last week YS gave me some money to deposit into our checking account. Why? Because he’d been buying again. And what about the selling? Well, he did sell … one lot … for about 1% of the value of what he’s bought. Technically yes, he sold some LEGOs, and our agreement was that he would sell before buying again, so, technically, he met the standards of our arrangement. Sneaky, sneaky.
It looks like I’ve still got some learning to do, but I’m planning on being with Yooper Stewart for a good long time. Maybe I’ll figure out Yooper-speak in the next few decades.