Right Again!

There’s a post coming, I promise. I just need to have a word with my calendar before we get started. April, I hardly knew you. *single tear* See you next year…unless the Mayans were right. dun dun dun! As for you, Miss May, simma’ down. Let’s take this nice and easy; can’t have you falling apart in this Texas heat. 

Now for the business as hand: My husband is right. Often. He’ll be the first to admit that he isn’t always, but darn it all if he doesn’t have a nice track record. I’ve gotten much better at saying this out loud. A few years ago, I would’ve faked a seizure to avoid it.

It happened again. Gabe came home from work and announced that he was deactivating his facebook. **Cue eye roll** I spend too much time on facebook; there I said it. So when my husband said he was cutting it out, I heard “You have an addiction, but I’m better than that.” My inner cynic said, “He’ll be back. This is such a hipster move, not following the mainstream” (there were a few finger quotation marks thrown in for good measure). In a matter of seconds, I had brought balance back to my mind, ridding it of guilt by pinning my husband as just another indie guy with an agenda and what I was sure would prove to be short-lived will power. There.

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Not so fast, You. He followed my silent rebuttal with an explanation that made my cheeks red with shame. While I had been busy painting Gabe as a social media anarchist, he was busy being humble. and right. Craaaapppp.

He told me about a conversation he had with a friend who, along with his wife, had “unplugged” for Lent. This friend, upon emerging from his lifeless cave of media deprivation (aka real life), was enjoying a quiet moment in a comfy chair with his faithful dog by his side. Like anyone with an iwhatever and a free minute, his first thought was “Awesome dog equals awesome instagram pic, equals lots of likes”. But instead he went with, “Awesome dog. Awesome life. Thanks, God”.

Oh sure, just twist the knife. It’s bad enough I spend too much time on facebook, but now we’re bringing God into this?! As hard as I searched for a loophole in this uncomfortable truth, I had to say uncle and start a slow clap to Gabe and Co., right there in the kitchen, in front of God and everyone. Well played, y’all. Well played. 

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I’m not getting off facebook/twitter/fillintheblank anytime soon, but oh my gracious…I’ve once more been faced with my chronic Wantmelovemetellmeitis, but also met by the God who cures it. Be on the lookout for cute baby pictures and random objects as seen through the Toaster filter, but for the love of cheese, don’t like them. (okay, you can like them, just slap me with a driving glove–old movie style–if I started getting cocky). Thanks. 

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