dirty, wet socks.

That is what our bedroom has smelled like for the past half week.

This is because wet socks and other clothing items sit all happily mixed together in the dirty clothes hamper in our room and just smell up the place. (aaaand laundry day isn’t for 5 more days, people.)

The wet socks are due to the fact that lately we have had SO. much. rain. It was all moody, too. Like it would come down in torrents and then drizzle off and on and then pour furiously again and then just when you think the streets have seen enough for a day, it would surprise-attack-tsunami all over again right when I decided I was good to go out for a run. I got caught umbrella-less like 5 times this week. At first the romantic in me thought it was delightful. Then it just got annoying.

Finally, a day with no rain! I just had to get out of the house today (Saturday). Fall Break is here and Zachary has the whole next week off from classes. Today we bought bus tickets with our friend Katie to travel to Matalascañas tomorrow (a journey that will involve camels! Can’t wait!), shopped around in an indoor mercado, ordered tea and sweet things at possibly our new favorite neighborhood pastelería, and discovered a new book store for Husband—where I waited patiently while he got all wide-eyed and salivated over every book he picked up. :) Zach in a bookstore makes me think of children in candy shops or myself in a park full of bushy-tailed squirrels. 

Spending so much time with this guy has truly been a blessing. I know couples whose schedules are so busy that they don’t see each other more than an hour a day. I am pretty sure that this will be us in a year, with Zach teaching and myself working probably very strange hours as a nurse, so I just feel so stinkin lucky to have received this chance to simply live life almost literally side-by-side my best friend for 3/4 of our first married year. It is thee best. Of course, with the all the close-quartersness comes the picking up on each other’s quirks and habits all the more quickly. I asked him today what kinds of new things he’s learned about me in these last 3-ish months. His initial response: “Umm…all the things that make you crabby??”  haha. It’s true—he has learned this. I admit to becoming unnecessarily crabby when I’m stressed or emotional. My family can attest.

One of my favorite things about my husband though, is that I believe he has sort of unlocked a key (that most people don’t know about) as to how to snap me out of this grumpiness. It’s as easy as this: he laughs at me. Like, he really laughs. I don’t know why his laughter doesn’t push me over the edge from crabby to mad, but somehow this response usually makes me realize how silly the thing I’m cranky about really is. My mom is also very good at this art, although I’ve never credited her for it. (Was always so exasperating trying not to break a smile when I was “mad” about something and she would try to make me laugh. J Oh, Mom, you’re awesome.) 

Laughing at ourselves for being dumb is really a great practice, and humbling. I think the whole laugh-at-our-mistakes thing is certainly a fine ingredient for a good marriage, as is building a lifestyle together of embracing each other’s acute weirdness.