Stacia and I are asleep in bed. It’s 1am and uncomfortably hot. I hear Stacia wake and stir next to me. She had already thrown off the blankets and was just under the thin bedsheet. I tell her I think it’s too hot and ask her if she wants me to turn on the ceiling fan. Stacia: “No.” [she answers groggily] Bryan: “Lower the AC?” Stacia: “No.” Bryan: “Which one? Fan or AC?” Stacia: “No. I want the dre-[initelligible].” Bryan; “a wha?” Stacia: “the dress” Bryan: “Which dress?” [I play along.] Stacia: “#342.“ I get out of bed to turn on the AC. The moment I stand up, Stacia says in full voice, Stacia: “Babe, where are you going?!” Bryan: “I’m getting the dress,” I lie. “Where is it? In the back?” Stacia: “No. It’s already in a bag.” Bryan: “oh, okay.” I turn down the AC and come back to find her sleeping loudly. Bryan: “I got the dress,” I state triumphantly. Stacia: [No response.] I must have done well.
Self growth is tender; it's holy ground. There's no higher investment.