In Which I Talk About Our Marriage


He didn't wear his wedding ring for maybe three decades.

He repaired computers for a living.  Was frequently tinkering with something or other under the car, hoping to get a few thousand more miles out of it.  Or creating a random widget or gift or project with one kind of power tool or another down in the workshop.

He didn't want to lose a finger.  And ... maybe even more than that, it just was plain uncomfortable for him to wear.

At first I subtly hinted.  And then not so subtly pouted.  And obnoxiously wheeled and dealed, trying without even a hint of success to get that band of gold back on his finger where it belonged.  I even offered {more than once} to buy my non-jewelry wearing man a chain so he could tote my precious wedding gift around his neck.  What was I thinking?

That was so not going to happen.

Over time ... click here to read the rest of the story at Cheryl's place

Linda

P.S.
Coming up next on the blog?  The Bookbag, where we'll all be comparing notes on our favorite Christian fiction selections!  Be sure to subscribe before you leave!



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