Thursday, July 07, 2005

You Know You're Married To A Jock When ...

• when he buys tickets to "A Christmas Carol" because he thought it was a musical.
• when he takes you to this "musical" and asks the guy in the tuxedo behind the coffee bar for popcorn, Junior Mints and Hot Tamales.
• when he refers to intermission as "halftime."
• when you arrive at the hospital to deliver your first born and he brings along his catcher's mitt.
• when he paints regulation lines on the driveway around your basketball goal.
• when he buys another basketball goal from Academy, saws six-feet of the pole off, drills a hole in the decking beside your pool, drops the basketball goal into it and concretes it in. None of that plastic poolside basketball for him. No siree. (And this monstrosity looks so nice next to my saga palm.)
• when he thinks reading is the epitome of being bored.
• when he's only read 3 books since 1986.
• when he thinks soap operas reflect the lowest form of our society.
• when he thinks romance novels are just one teeny-tiny step above soap operas.

Well, I'm sure you've figured out ... I'm married to a jock. Now don't get me wrong. They have their perks. They are hard workers, driven, passionate, great leaders, great providers, fiercely protective of their woman and offspring, and they come packaged very, very nicely.

My sweetie-pie has been secretly wishing I never published simply because he didn't want to have to read my novel. So, when it arrived, it was a black day for him indeed. Bless his athletic little heart.

Still, because his love for me is so fierce and so loyal, he set his mind to conquering this unpleasantness. He had a 15-hour overseas flight coming up. He'd read it then.

He boarded the plane, settled into his seat, reached for my novel and paused. The Drilling Superintendent sat down next to him. Hubby subtly changed course and pulled the Sports Page out of his briefcase instead. The novel stayed where it is for the entire 15 hours.

Now, he's on a drilling rig. With a very rough and tough crowd. But lucky for him, he had a private room. With a door. So under the cover of darkness, he burrowed down and began to read A Bride Most Begrudging.

I so desperately want to share with you the email he sent me after he finished, but he makes references to the end of the book that would spoil it for you. So, I'll share this much with you:

"Well I finished the book! How about that. I thought that it was excellent and
as far as my first romance, it wasn't too mushy! I was very impressed and found
myself wanting to get back to the book once I had started ... I was very
entertained and impressed. You are so talented and smart, just like Connie!!"

I cannot even begin to tell you how much his "review" meant to me. I had impressed my non-reading, romance-novel-hating, jock-of-a husband. It was easily one of the proudest days of my life. He had a very nice homecoming.

And I shall leave it at that.

Blessings,
Deeanne

P.S. For your chance to win a free autographed copy of A Bride Most Begrudging, fill out this entry form.

posted by Deeanne at 10:30 AM