Monday, January 14, 2008

New coffee pot

We had a minor disaster on the home front yesterday. I had set the coffee carafe to soak in a sinkful of soapy water, partly because it needed to be washed (how many months?) and partly because DH had run the sink to soak another bowl, and it was, well, there. A bit later DH decided to scrub the pot, a very generous impulse, especially as he doesn't drink coffee so the grunge in the pot was all mine. Shouting coming from the direction of the kitchen is never a good thing, and yesterday it was his spontaneous eruption resulting when the pot slipped from his hands, shattering the lip of the pot and punching a large hole in the side, then poking a good-sized wound in his hand. Not a slice, fortunately. He probably bounced it against the broken lip of the pot.

We got the bleeding stopped and the wound cared for, then DH began encouraging me to get a new coffee pot. But I am not really interested in a new pot. This one is scarcely more than 15 years old, and works fine. I just need to find a new carafe that fits, and I told him I would make the coffee directly into my cup in the meantime. That shouldn't be too hard; I only make one cup at a time.

This morning I came upstairs to find this:

DH had dug through the cupboard and found my largest mug, then placed it on the warmer in the coffee maker. Wasn't that thoughtful? After I expressed my delight and he went off to work I started thinking about the languages of love. Actions speak the loudest to me - words are too easy to say and not really mean anything, or in fact can misrepresent the truth. I have assumed for many years that actions are most important to DH, too, but this morning I realized that there is something I can do for him that speaks even more loudly: express my appreciation for his actions. He lights up whenever I do that. I can't believe it took me this long to notice.


cellodonna said...

Yes. Thank you for reminding me. I've also found that it's especially nice when we give our DHs recognition in front of family and friends.

Emily said...

It's strange: I have grown accustomed to drinking red wine out of these fancy, wafer-thin glasses. They really do improve flavor, but about once every 6 months, one of them breaks, usually the stem or the rim, while I am washing it. I am clumsy by nature (always bruised and sort of staggering around), and am usually good at avoiding cuts, because I have so much practice breaking things. But a few days ago, when I did by biannual Reidel Glass Smash, I managed to not only cut myself, but on both palms! I showed my Sweetie the new-fangled stigmata, but alas, it did not usher in a new era of Man Doing The Dishes. I'll keep him around anyway, and remind him of how much better my life is with him in it.

After all, he's the one who has replaced a lot of wine glasses without so much as a comment about who broke them. That, in its own way, is a lovely thing to (not) say.