Military Spouse Rite of Passage

Last year my then boyfriend (now husband) gave me a sewing machine for my birthday. Well, he actually gave me a picture of a sewing machine and explained he was still working on buying me one. He spent a lot of time researching the best machine to get and spent countless hours failing, but then finally succeeding on bidding for one on eBay. So then a few months later I got my beloved Pfaff.

I can barely operate the thing without my husband hovering behind me, telling me how to thread it, which foot to use for that stitch, questioning if the tension is correct, etc. He became a veritable sewing machine afficionado during his research. I have made a few things on it, mostly just decorative cushions and patching up clothes. I have great dreams of making huge projects on it, but I have just never gotten around to realizing any of that.

However, two days ago I realized that purchasing the sewing machine for me and all of his hand-holding while I was operating the machine wasn't just a sign of his support for all my craft projects...oh no, rather it was just grooming me for the most important task of all: he asked me if I could sew some patches onto his new uniform.

I was kind of giddy when I did it. It felt so "wifey." And I was pretty proud of my handiwork. And I realized that it made me feel more like a military spouse than anything else I had done in the last few weeks since getting married.

Dry humor

We were sitting on the couch watching TV and a commercial for Chevy's Volt came up: the tag line is: "A 40 mile or less daily commute without a drop of gas."

So I turn to my husband and ask (eyes rolling): "so when they go home and recharge the car's battery, where does the power come from then?"

Without missing a beat he replies: "Oh, only from energy derived from windmills, of course."

*Sigh* I love him.