I just picked up a book by Harold Kushner called Living a Life that Matters. I’m only on page six but I’ll pretend to know what I’m talking about.  Up to page six, he discusses the basic human need to to believe we are important, and how that often clashes with another basic human need:  to believe that we are good.  I found this interesting and am anxious to see what happens beyond page six.  I cannot progress past page six, however, because my important+good husband has stolen the book from me and is reading it as I type.

This is a “quirk” (mass euphemism) of his:  I bring home books that I am excited about, tell him the premise, then spend the next week frantically looking for said book.  Unfailingly, said book is artfully placed in his car/under his side of the bed/between the couch cushions; anywhere I won’t see it for at least a few days.  I wail madly around the house–it was just here!–as Derrick mumbles something quietly and backpeddles to another room.  When, days later, I finally discover the precious book I swoop it up triumphantly, only to find my husband’s drivers license or a dollar bill stuck between two pages near the book’s end.  This tells me that a) he has, once again, stolen my book, and b) he has been reading it behind my back.  This reminds me that a) he shares some of my intellectual interests, and b) he is dishonest.

I’ll take b if it means I get a.  Some might call it settling.  I call it choosing my battles.  (Mass euphemism.)

So while my husband sits on the couch downstairs, reading about living a better life from the book he ripped off, I sit at my keyboard musing over why he’s an important and good father:

  • He tries his hardest at everything he does.  Important
  • He shows his kids how to try their hardest, too.  Good.
  • He shows integrity in everything he does outside our home.  Important.
  • He expects integrity from everyone inside our home.  Good.
  • He teaches his kids, by example, how to work hard.  Important.
  • He plays with his kids, hard, when he’s done working.  Good.
  • He is optimistic by nature.  Important.
  • He is loving by nature.  Good.
  • He doesn’t think much of himself, so he cares little about what others think of him.  Important.
  • Instead, he cares about how others feel about themselves.  Good.

You see how it works?  My husband is important and good.  Important to me, important to our children, good to us all.  I feel important and good for having married him.  And smart.  And lucky.

Important Man.

This is a picture he had taken for some brochure at work, and yes, he felt like a jack-a through the whole thing.  He’ll be so mad at me for posting this.  I can’t wait.

Good Man.

Scraping dead birds out of our kitchen vent wherein they were trapped last month.  He was very, very good to do this for me.

Happy Father’s Day, Derrick.  We love you for all the important goodness you bring to our world.

And I love you, personally, for being my world.

 

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