Arthur, I Love You

Mr. Moon has no idea sometimes how close he comes to seeing me go up in flames. This morning was one of them.
He stayed out late last night, playing poker while I stayed at home, which is fine with me. I got a lot done and went to bed pretty early.
But this morning he came out to the porch to tell me that although he noticed I did remember to shut the chickens in, I had forgotten to turn off the porch ceiling fan.
"I know it's hard to remember," he said sweetly.

"Arthur," I thought to myself. "Oh, Arthur."

I read a book once, an autobiography by Gloria Stuart, called I Just Kept Hoping. Ms. Stuart is a remarkable woman who played the very old woman in Titanic. In the book she said that when she got really mad at her husband she would say, quite reasonably, "Fuck you, Arthur!"
And that amused me and so our code, Mr. Moon's and mine, for not being amused when one of us does or says something that pisses the other off is simply, "Arthur!"

Yes. I forgot to turn off the ceiling fan.
But. I weeded, I did some plant trimming, I did some laundry, I cooked an entire meal so that he could have a lunch and a dinner tonight while I'm at rehearsal and cleaned up the kitchen and oh, who knows what all else I did?
And thus, the "Arthur." Which I did not say out loud but sat and just looked at him and nodded and said, "Oh yeah. I'm sorry."
I sat and seethed a bit for a few moments, thinking of all the things I DO remember, such as to do his laundry and buy food and then remember to prepare it. I remember to buy toilet paper and sometimes even remember to put it on the holder when he, for some reason, forgets. And I remember to buy the dish washing soap and the laundry detergent and light bulbs and cat food and his supplements which I also remember to hand to him because he never remembers, and I remember to take the trash and do whatever housecleaning gets done around here and all the things I do but that no one ever even thinks of because...well, it's done.

ARTHUR!

And then I stop and I think about the fact that he works so hard to make the money for all of these things and he remembers to go to work every day and he remembers to go work out every day and he remembers to thank me for the meals I make and cleans up after sometimes and how he always remembers to buy chicken food and dog food and beer and how he takes such good care of Owen and even changes poopy diapers and how Owen is in such bliss when his grandfather kisses the back of his neck with his beardy face and then, and THEN, when I took the dogs to the groomer this morning and came back and found this note:

well, what could I do?
Sigh and say, "Arthur. I love you."

Marriage. It's a funny thing and there are bumps in the road and then there is such sweetness your heart melts all over again.

Good-morning, y'all.

Love...Ms. Moon