Skip to main content

SOLC Day 3

My husband is a genius

Sole spawn of 2 PhDs
Seemingly limitless knowledge
of sports and politics

But

Sometimes I have to teach him things.

Like
The time I asked him
To clean the floor.

“Wesley,” I said.
”You have to put
The wipe on the Swiffer
BEFORE you push the Swiffer across the floor.”

Or
The time I asked him
To melt the butter.

“Wesley,” I said.
“You have to put
The butter in a bowl
BEFORE you put it in the microwave.”

My husband is a genius.
He teaches me, too.

He teaches me
To be more positive
And to let my sillies out.
He teaches me
By reminding me to show grace
And let go of my raging petty.
He teaches me
That the problem isn't THAT big.
He teaches me
That it’s okay to make mistakes.

My husband is a genius.

And

I am a genius
For marrying my husband.

Comments

  1. I love love love this poem. It is full of fun and detail and your ending is brilliant.

    ReplyDelete
  2. How lovely, what a great poem, you are both geniuses!

    ReplyDelete
  3. The stanza breaks remind me of those in Long Way Down by Jason Reynolds; they work with the words to support the meaning. Love the teasing quality of this poem!

    ReplyDelete
  4. This is a wonderful glimpse of your husband. Yes, it is good he has you and you have him. I love how you turned the poem at the end.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Very sweet slice :) I enjoyed reading it.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Alex, this is so endearing! I love how you parallel these two sides of him with two sides of you. They are simple and serene, sophisticated and sugary. I love your #ragingpetty and expertise in finding a husband as smart as he is (smile). This is very nicely done, stylistically, too. #lovedit! ~Carla Michelle

    ReplyDelete
  7. You’re a genius at putting this into words, too.

    ReplyDelete
  8. The sweeps and swerves of this poem were fun to follow.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Snapshot of a morning commute - SOLC Day 4

Have you ever had one of those days where you wake up, and before any other thought crosses your drowsy mind, you think to yourself, 'huh, how can I make this morning difficult for my fellow human beings?' No? Me neither. But apparently, the guy riding his bike in the middle of the lane did!  (Side note: my husband and I carpool. He is driving, I did not take this photograph from behind the wheel!)

The Last Supper, Part 1 - SOLC Day 15

Last night, my husband and I went out for a date. I know, we’re meant to be socially distancing. But we needed a last hurrah as a couple before we began our isolation with a toddler in a tiny condo. Thank GOD we went on a date! It turned out to be a dream come true! Our night began at a neighborhood sushi joint, small, BYOB. We went because it’s BYOB and we’re poor, but what we realized is that it is a neighborhood destination that we somehow didn’t know about(?!?!). The reason why it’s a destination is Sushi Mike. Sushi Mike is the Japanese-American sushi version of the character who plays the mafia boss’ favorite chef. He is PURE GOLD. His laughter - a shocking cackle- cuts through the sound of chatter and ambient music the way his chef’s knife slices through ahi tuna. Left and right, customers ask their servers to send over a glass of wine for Sushi Mike. It is well deserved. Sushi Mike’s specialty is making special rolls for his guests. Servers ask about allergies and spic

SOLC Day 1

So, last weekend I went to a Pamper Party. A Pamper Party is when your friend, who decided to become a Mary Kay consultant, invites people over to drink wine and buy things. The morning of the Pamper Party, I said to my husband, "I will not buy ANYTHING." The afternoon of the Pamper Party, I said to my mother and sister over FaceTime, "I will not buy ANYTHING." I'm sure you can see where this is going. 7:30PM rolls around. My toddler daughter is asleep in her crib bathed in the soft glow of her nightlight and the steady sound of her white noise machine. My husband is sprawled on the couch, bathed in the blue lights of the television and his laptop, both of which are tuned into different sporting events. I am walking downstairs to my friend's unit.  I am the second to arrive. The wine is being opened. Introductions are made. When the fourth and final mother (we are all mothers) arrives, we go down to the basement. Let the pampering begin. We are