Still Laughing

Buddie’s brain amazes me. As he said in his guest post: You can’t be married for 21 years without knowing your partner pretty well, but you can still learn new things.

This morning as we had a few quiet moments snuggled in bed before we began our Sunday, I learned his side of a story from our trip to Universal Studios. I’m still laughing at the different perspectives on the world.

Her perspective:

Monkey and I were finishing packing up the hotel room. The plan was to check out of the room, then head over to Universal to ride those last few rides all of us wanted to get in.

We had one inner tube left from the original four that we had for the Lazy River at the hotel.

I handed the tube to Buds, Yessa, and Buster and said, “Hey, you guys go give this away to someone in the lobby while Monkey and I finish up here. We’ll meet you down there to walk over to the park.”

Monkey and I quickly finished packing up the car, and headed to the lobby, chatting happily about our upcoming day at the amusement parks.

We walked into the lobby, and sitting on this blue couch:

was Buds, squeezing the air out of the inner tube while Yessa and Buster looked around guiltily.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Buds got that look on his face that says, “You asked me to do something I didn’t want to do.”

“There was no one to give it to.” he said, completely sincerely.

I scooped up the partially deflated tube, walked over to give it to another mom who said, “Thank you so much, you are so sweet.” Walked back over to my crew and off we went to the park.

His perspective:

I walked into the lobby. There was no one in line waiting to check into the hotel. There were people waiting in line to get tickets for the park, so they were obviously wanting to get out of the hotel.

I considered the employees at the check-in desk and envisioned myself asking them, “Hey, do you ever come float in the lazy river and would you like this inner tube to use?”

That didn’t seem right.

I looked around some more; the bartender, the guy playing a guitar…nope, nope, nope.

I asked Buster and Yessa if they wanted to give it to someone.

Nope.

Do I have a knife in my pocket? I asked myself.

Nope.

Okay, I can deflate it and hide it before Ginnie gets here.

Almost made it.

Then, this morning:

I asked Buds, “What would you have said when I asked you if you found someone to give it to?”

“I would have said, ‘I disposed of it in an environmentally responsible way.’ because I would have let all the air out, and you wouldn’t have wanted it to go the landfill with all that air in it, would you?!”

“And,” he continued, “I wouldn’t have put it in a plastic bag to throw it away, so that should have made you happy. In fact, the only thing that could have made you happier is if I had put it in one of your cloth bags and thrown it away in that.”

Oh my gosh, this man makes me cry with laughter. He gets me, he truly gets me.

This is what happens when the introvert and the extrovert are bonded for life.