I thought I was getting better.
Sammy has always asked me to stop leaving bobby pins on every surface of the house like a trail of where I’ve been. I’ve always been mindful that it’s annoying, and as I take my hair down at the end of the day, setting pins down on the end table, coffee table, or on the couch beside me I think,
“Ok Age, when you get up you’ll take these pins upstairs with you.”
But then I complete the email or show or glass of wine, yawn once or twice, and he guides me up off the couch to bed.
Pins. Left. Behind.
I wasn’t getting better at putting them away at all, he’s just getting better at picking them up after me, without complaint.
So sometimes it’s the big life shit that you fight over and sometimes its the insignificant. Today I’m just grateful it was me that looked down at the carpet and picked up an abandoned pin, my reminder to put up with his little imperfections and continue to work on mine.