Last night, Steve spent a few hours upstairs putting together a desk for me. Now that he's home in the evenings, we thought it would be good for me to have a place to do homework away from the distractions that he causes by just being himself and me loving him so much. Hence the new desk.
While he worked on assembling the desk, I sat downstairs doing homework. And giggling every so often. The man is pretty good with tools and following directions, but things didn't seem to be going his way last night. Every so often I could hear him ranting about the stupid instructions or drawer or whatever. Sadie would look at me each time he got loud, seeming to ask, "What is he doing up there?"
My husband is an ammo trooper with the AF. These men can cuss as good, or better, than any sailor you could imagine. Not being a cusser myself, it has been a little shocking at times, but it's something I don't bother to worry about too much. These men are also some of the best men I've ever met, especially my husband. Steve swears less than some of his friends but definitely could match them if he so desired.
So, imagine my surprise when the words that were coming out of his mouth last night were "fudge", "darn", "shoot", and other nonsense words instead of the stream of profanity that could have been. It made me realize that, without ever talking about my dislike of profanity, I have had an impact of Steve, me and my non-cussing family and friends. Some of his rough edges are becoming smooth.
He's not the only one in our relationship that has rough edges. While walking Sadie today, I thought about some of my own rough edges that Steve is smoothing out. Poor guy, I think his job is harder than mine; my rough edges are complicated.
In my favorite book, Fahrenheit 451, the old English professor told Montag about how he had been a chunk of wood when he was younger that had slowly, in time, become more refined, smoother, by his involvement with people and with learning. It's one of my favorite parts of the book, one that I think about often as I see how I have been refined by the people and experiences in my life. It gives me hope that someday I'll be a polished, smooth piece of wood instead of the chunk of rough edges I am.