I woke up from a late afternoon nap to the warmth cinnamon wafting in from the kitchen and Shawn holding a Tim Horton’s cup of green tea in front of my face.
Shawn has a funny way of coping when I’m sick. Last year he demolished our hideous pink bathroom and gave life to a magazine page I had archived in my mind of all the things I wished for.
He allowed me to run with my dream and cringed when I picked up a beautiful brown colour swatch named “Satchel” which reminded us of Zach Galifianakis character in “The Hangover”.
“It’s called a satchel. Indiana Jones wears one,” Shawn said seriously.
And for the first time in months we roared hysterically in the middle of the hardware store.
I put the swatch in with the rest of our colour choices not thinking once that we’d actually use it to cover the pain of many hard years.
As Shawn said it best, “This paint will cover up all the fuck ups. Hey, kind of like what your make up does for you.”
He’s romantic that way.
The bathroom remodeling didn’t cure my bipolar disorder but it made my days brighter by giving me something positive to focus on.
Of course it also gave me plenty of opportunities to jam odd objects into the crack of Shawn’s exposed bum.
He did what he set out to do; to make me feel better.
And I love him for always trying.
To me that means he’s not giving up on helping me and my quest to find my way.
“When you’re done being lazy, come into the kitchen,” he shouted.
Chunky was already in there with a fork in his hand waiting for a cinnamon roll and my stomach turned with excitement.
My boys watched as the first warm gooey piece passed my lips.
Each bite was as sinfully delicious as the last. I knew my bowels would thank me later but I didn’t care.
I licked every melted morsel of icing off of my fingers and the plate.
When I looked up, Shawn had a wide smile.
“Did I make you forget that rash?”
“What rash?” I said, “I want another roll!”
And with that he jumped out of his chair and plated me another.
“Thank you babe.”
“No problem. They just came from a can. 23 minutes and done.”
“No, for fixing today.”
“Momma, you’re eating like a pig.”
On May 6th we spent our evening laughing together.