However, there are moments that I find myself inadvertently humbled. Those moments, despite my realistic ego, I discover I'm not as important as I imagine myself to be.
Like this evening.
Bekah was in the living room skimming facebook. The kids were playing in their bedroom. And I was in the kitchen cooking french toast. And I'm rocking out to some of the best cheesy music my iTunes has to offer: Sugar Ray, ABBA, Billy Joel, Uncle Kracker. I'm singing along, dancing in the kitchen, flipping slices of bread in the skillet. Then Bon Jovi's Livin' on a Prayer starts playing. I keep singing - voice cracking - nothing I'd ever do in public.
As I'm shrieking those lines "hold on to what we've got, doesn't make a difference if we make it or not, We've got each other and that's a lot, we'll give it a shot, Half way there - livin' on a prayer" I have a picture in my head.
I could see in my minds eye: Bekah sitting on the couch, still surfing through her friends' status updates, silently laughing at me. She's realizing again that she married a giant nerd, but I'm her nerd. She has a loving way of mocking me when I most deserve it. And if I ever deserved her teasing, a time when I'm singing loudly in falsetto (and probably off key) along with a Bon Jovi song would be the most opportune moment.
I pulled a few slices of cooked toast of the skillet, dunked a few more pieces of bread into the batter and tossed them into the pan. The moment was at hand. I stepped into the living room fully prepared to receive the "honey, you're embarrassing yourself" lecture.
Bekah was nowhere to be found. Gone. She snuck out to go hide while I cooked. She missed it all.
I'm bigger in my head. Lesson learned, for now.
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