Background: I am taking some online classes right now and have been working on my assignments at my craft table in the craftroom a couple of nights a week. I sit in our office/desk chair when I am in there...a traditional chair with non-adjustable loop-style arms.
Secondary Information: (and TMI *snort*) I tend to run around the house in a tank top and undies in the evenings. (sometimes knit shorts) This was one of those sans shorts evenings. (*chuckle*)
Hotty Scotty was getting B ready for bed so that I could do some homework and they were in the bathroom brushing their teeth. I ran in there really quick for something and everyone was carrying on life as usual when I heard Scott say:
"Christina, (...pause...) is that what the office chair does to you?"
(in the softest, most sincere, caring, almost hurt voice I have ever heard him use)
The way he said my name before his statement...the way his voice sounded...the pain in his eyes (not disgust, but pain, for me)...the whole situation. My world stopped spinning for a moment. It was one of those "oh-my-gosh-I-think-he-just-realized-I-am-fat" moments.
He was referring to the large, deep, angry red indentations that the chair arms had formed across my upper/outer thighs. Yeah, I know the chair is tight when I sit in it. I know it is uncomfortable. I guess I am just used to it. This was one of the first times I can remember ever being truly embarrassed and ashamed of myself in front of my husband.
I simply nodded and replied an emotionless "Yes." to his question.
But...then I silently added "...but I am doing something about it."
To say that I am thankful
for his loving me the
way I am is yet another
End. Of. *That*. Moment.
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