I want my husband to rise up, and call me blessed.
Last night, my husband went rambling on and on about this girl at work.
I hear about her all the time.
It's always about how sweet and wonderful she is, how much she loves the lord.
Every time I got ready to bite his head off, the still small voice in my soul kept checking me. So I waited.
Story after story about this woman kept getting relayed to me, as my sweatheart drifted off to sleep.
I kept silent, except for the occassion "uh, huh", in hushed, reverent tones (don't gag).
Simmering inside, I bit my tongue. And listened. Patiently.
And then, my husband dropped the bomb.
He said, "So i said to her son" (this lady's son works their too), "You sure are blessed to have such a God-fearing woman for a mother."
To which I answered (just as sweetly),Gee, honey, I keep waiting for the day when you say that to my kids about me.
