Humility

I thought about avoiding this whole topic and pretending this never happened. But, if I can tell stories about my husband and children, then I suppose I have to be willing to share my own tales.

Last week, Nick mentioned that he had a service at school that would require him to be wearing his gown (as in the faculty gown that he wears for graduation every spring). I shelved that detail in the back of my mind, never to be thought of again. This past Saturday, he mentioned it again to which I swear it was the first time he had told me about it. I figured I would take care of it on Sunday before he left for the service. After all, I had all day to pull it out of the closet and iron it.

Came home from church, plugged in the iron, and went to the closet to retrieve the gown. The problem was, it was no longer there. I usually keep it in the same basket so that every May, I know exactly where it is. However, in the midst of my nesting/making our house look show worthy, I had moved that basket to another place for a more practical purpose.

"No problem," I reassured Nick, "It has to be in an easy place to find." I checked the obvious places like the rest of the closet, the linen closet, even the kids' closets. Then I bent down (not easy at eight months pregnant) to look under the bed. I even ventured into the garage, thinking it might have been moved out with some of the boxes labled, "Nick's stuff." Nope. No gown anywhere.

Now, if you do not know us well, I must explain our personalities. I am a very organized person who likes everything in its place. It doesn't always look like that in our house since I live with three other people who do not share my obsession, but I do my best. Nick, on the other hand, has piles. There is a pile on the kitchen counter of "things to go through that are important so do not throw them out." There is a pile under the bed of similar things. There are boxes in the garage filled with memories and trophies. And there is his car, which I do not even go near.

Can you understand why my searching felt in vain? I kept looking in the most absurd places for this precious gown, all the while thinking, "I know he left it at school or in his car and it has never been brought to me. Otherwise, it would be in a practical place in this house."

Nick was having similar thoughts. Accept his were in anger that I could misplace something so important.

You can see why our Sunday was not the best of days.

He eventually found an extra gown at the school moments before the service. I received an apologetic text, claiming his error in anger and how it was probably his fault anyway. I appreciated him finally realizing the truth and owning up to his disorganization. After all, it could never be my fault when I am so on top of things.

Well, I began cleaning out the garage today. I had a few boxes to move around to make room for our new freezer and as I was moving one particular bin, I opened it up to remind myself what was in it.

Yep. There it was.

My first reaction was to throw it out and pretend I never saw it. Nick could go on thinking he lost it, eventually get a replacement, and no one would be any the wiser.

Then, as I realized he would see it in the garbage while taking it out tomorrow, I tried to think of how I could sneak it into his car or somewhere at school so that he would find it and realize he had been the one to misplace it. (Friends fans, think of the episode where they are up all night and Rachel puts the forms back into Tag's desk-that is exactly where my mind was.)

As I realized I do not live in a sitcom and instead of being funny, it would be pretty wrong of me, I picked up my phone and sent the text that I never thought I would send. I told my loving husband what I had found.

Thankfully, he was sweet about and did not gloat too much. Maybe he is saving it for when he gets home. I even asked him not to tell anyone it was my fault, but here I am, finally feeling guilty enough to confess on my own.

Ah, humility. We can talk about how we want to be humble, but when it actually happens, it is not a pretty thing. I could just blame all of this on pregnancy brain (which I swear really exists), but in this case, I just have to suck it up and admit my fault.

Have to get back to cleaning out that garage-should be fun to see what else I find.