Oddly shaped

He’s such a good sport. I just kept laughing and he never took offense… even though I was laughing at his face.

If he had done the same to me, I would have either gotten frustrated or really hurt. But not Brian. I was making him try on sunglasses at a department store, and Brian’s face is… well… err… “oddly shaped”. Every pair looked hilarious.

I think the lady who was helping us thought I was nuts as I would double over cackling at my husband. “What’s wrong with your face?!” I would exclaim.

Now, please know that I think my husband is a sexy sexy man. I especially like his face– the same one I mocked relentlessly tonight. And I do not do things to intentionally hurt this man– wouldn’t dream of it!

But there’s this beautiful, vital part of our marriage that came into play here– and that is laughter. We laugh. We laugh all the time! We laugh at our mistakes, our pasts, our dance moves, our blunders, ourselves, and each other. There are parameters on the laughing at each other, i.e. Brian wouldn’t laugh at anything to do with my face, but there’s a lot that is fair game for each of us.

Brian is a good sport. Thank God for that! He graciously provided the entertainment for much of our shopping outing, and for that, I am grateful. And I probably should’ve mentioned earlier– he was laughing, too 😉

Advertisements

One thought on “Oddly shaped

  1. Lindsey’s right, I have a terrible face for sunglasses. I’ve had exactly one pair in my life time I liked. Nothing I try looks good on me, and the trendiest stuff just looks ridiculous. So yes, laughing at my face in this case is good entertainment.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s