Blabberings

My friend Cindi’s love language is cream of chicken soup. Her husband Michael’s love language is winning. The reaction from their combined love languages looks like this:

(Click here to see Much Ado about Very Little.)

Maybe Maria von Trapp and I need to start at the very beginning.

It’s been over a year now that I’ve been meaning to tell you this story. It happened soon after Labor Day 2013, right after my twin daughters left for two different colleges. Before school started, they took me kicking and screaming to the Verizon store to get an iPhone. Actually, Abby got an upgrade, and I inherited her old one.

Picture me at sitting at the kitchen table at The King’s Inn at Lake Eufaula on Labor Day, bemoaning my sad state of technophobia to my friends who are Early Adapters of Technology. We make each other laugh, but we do not see eye-to-eye. They move quickly; I move slowly. They like new (Michael more than Cindi); I like old. However, we all err on the side of overreaction. We all figure a hearty guffaw trumps an understated giggle every single time.

With my hands flinging, I wailed, “I just want a phone that plugs into the wall in the kitchen! I just want a phone with a long curly cord that will stretch across the room! I just want a phone that I can lean on my shoulder and talk on while I’m washing dishes! WHAT WAS SO WRONG ABOUT THE GOOD OLD DAYS?!”

We cackled until the laughter triggered asthma attacks, parted ways, and returned to the Real World.

Later in the week, Michael stumbled across a handset advertised online that plugs into an iPhone. It’s big and clunky and fits nicely on a middle-aged mom’s shoulder, while her iPhone is tucked safely and snugly in her jeans pocket.

He chuckled to himself and purchased the darn thing.

(He likes to win, remember. He likes the last laugh.)

We didn’t see each other for a couple of weeks. Michael the Impatient Hare couldn’t wait any longer to see my reaction. He made Cindi take my gift to handbell practice one Sunday afternoon and told her to record me as I opened my surprise (on her iPhone—the latest version, duh.)

I was delighted, thrilled, overcome.

Honestly, I haven’t used it. It sits on my desk in my little home office, where I listen to Pandora as I pay bills, play on FB, and avoid household responsibilities. I smile at it several times a week. It makes me feel all warm inside, just like Cindi’s homemade cream of chicken soup makes me feel.

It is, to quote Hannah Montana, the Best of Both Worlds.

I suppose my love language is sacrificing my dignity for your merriment.

Take me home, Lord Jesus!