“I like how you got me a shot-sized cup. Thanks for that.”
I said the words with a smile, but I’m sure the snideness of my comment hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Well,” said my husband in his characteristic and sometimes annoyingly sweet innocence, “you asked for a kid’s meal, so that’s what I ordered and…that’s what came with it.”
“I know but…look at it.” I held up the tiny cup with the oversized straw hanging out, then immediately turned to my son and began tickling him and telling him what a perfect ball of cuteness he was.
My mother-in-law had spent the morning with B while I was at work, and now we were all meeting for lunch at the mall’s food court. My husband, Matt, asked if he could order for me so I wouldn’t have to wait for my food. In an attempt to eat healthier and a smaller portion, I ordered a grilled nuggets kid’s meal with a fruit cup. Yeah. A fruit cup.
So now you understand my grumpiness, right? I mean who in their right mind would choose a fruit cup over waffle fry perfection? Anyway…
I realized later that my snarky comment to my husband was almost literally the first thing I said to him when I arrived. I don’t think I ever even said thank you for ordering for me.
Matt had to leave quickly to get back to work, so while the rest of us waited by the elevators, Matt headed toward the escalators. At the last minute, he jumped off the escalator and ran over to me. “Forgot to kiss you,” he said with a grin, and planted one on me.
I should mention my husband is kind of a servant super man. The day before, on Sunday, I didn’t feel well, so Matt let me take a nap while he went to the grocery store for me, then came home and watched B, then left to meet a guy for discipleship, then came home that night and cleaned out the entire refrigerator.
(I promise I actually do stuff, by the way…)
Add to all that the fact that Matt works every day to provide for our family and to allow me to stay home with B. He gives daily and he gives selflessly.
Yet how easy it is for me to only see the negatives, the weaknesses. Too often my cup runneth over with criticism, while my gratitude is limited to a shot-sized Chick-fil A cup.
We all do this in one way or another. We have people in our lives who are so faithful that we start to expect it. Well they should be faithful, we think. I deserve it.
And then when the smallest infraction occurs — something like, I don’t know, a ridiculously tiny kid’s meal drink — it’s all we can see. We lash out, completely missing every selfless act that preceded it.
That night I asked my husband’s forgiveness for being dumb. And also thanked him for being kind of awesome. He was annoyingly gracious, like normal. (The nerve…)
We as humans tend to take for granted the ones closest to us. Rather than overflowing with gratitude, we stuff it into a shot-sized glass — and oftentimes our loved ones are left feeling thirsty.
Here’s to appreciating the ones we love — one microscopic kid’s meal drink at a time.