Humor at Home: How My Kids Complete Me
And Also My Husband Is Pretty OK to Have Around, Too
by Julie Willis
And Also My Husband Is Pretty OK to Have Around, Too
by Julie Willis
Jul 30, 2024
It all started in college. There I was, minding my own business, thinking I did not even like children. And pursuing my teaching credential (because teaching made a lot of sense as a career choice for someone who did not like children). So, there I was, taking classes, living in the dorm, listening to CNN while I got ready for my day when I was blindsided one morning by an American Airlines commercial.
In the commercial, a dad is leaving for a business trip. He says goodbye to his son who is about four years old. He boards his flight and opens his briefcase to find a hand-drawn picture from his son. He smiles.
My heart melted, and unsolicited tears pushed at the back of my eyes. I did not know what hormones were at work there, but that was a defining moment for me: I now had an ache in my heart that left a hole the size of a four-year-old boy.
So, unlike my peers–who were watching “You’ve Got Mail” and looking for love in the local clubs–I was watching CNN every morning hoping my American Airlines ad would come on.
At that point in my life, I was not thinking of marriage.
Well, OK, so there were times when I could see the point in being married. Mostly to have someone around to pick me up when I needed to leave my car with the mechanic.
That’s what I thought marriage was good for.
But children? Children were good for pulling at your heartstrings.
I had everything all mixed up.
And yet, here I am all these years later, finding that my husband is indeed handy to have around for rides when I leave my car at the shop. Also, when I have had a dead battery or a flat tire. Or when the cat vomits on the rug. Or I need IT help. Or to open pickle jars. To go out at night to pick up a pint of ice cream. Do all of the driving on road trips. All the things.
I don’t think that boy from the American Airlines ad was real, though. My kids don’t send me to work with drawings in my briefcase.
But when I would go to work when she was little, Ashley had a thirty-minute routine that had to be completed before I could get in the car: She would say, “Mommy, Mommy. Wait. I have to tell you some-ping.” And then she would think hard and start listing all the things she loved: “The cats and the horses,” she would start. Then it would be something like, “And the rainbows and the sprinkles. And… and the doughnuts.” And when she would run out of things she loved, she would start over: “No, no, Mommy. Wait. I have to tell you some-ping. The cats and the horses….” And in my mind, it was poetry. It was like she was saying she loved me as much as the cats and the horses and the sprinkles.
And oh, how that melted my heart.
And I decided that having a real child beat that adorable little actor who probably did not even draw that picture for his not-real commercial dad.
And I know now: I have it all.