Wednesday, October 03, 2012

A Gift from the Butt

We left the building quickly. It was a downhill slope so Joe ran ahead as I brought my chair up to the fastest speed possible. Rain made us both want to get in the car as dry as possible. We had a long drive ahead, through what we knew would be crushing traffic, and the idea of sitting for all that time in wet clothes was not appealing. I got round to the drivers side of the car, took off the footrests and handed them to Joe and then transferred from wheelchair to car as quickly as I could.

Once in the car, Joe brought the wheelchair round to the passenger door behind the driver's seat and then folded up the chair and lifted it in. Once in I caught hold of it and help bring it in the rest of the way. Joe jumped in. He was a little wetter than I was but we'd both managed to work quickly and get out of the rain without getting soaked. We chatted for the first hour and then fell fairly quiet commenting mostly on the rain and the driving conditions. The quiet was broken several times when Joe burst into loud condemnations of other drivers, their manner and their parentage.

Our route took us out of one city and right through the downtown core or another. We crawled for a long time both of us, who will be sixty this year, thirsty but now, with the traffic, glad of the decision we both made of not having a pop or iced tea along the way. Just outside the second city the traffic began to ease, the rain began to slow down.

About five miles from our hotel, arriving much later than we thought we would. The rain had virtually stopped. We were pleased for that anyways. Joe went and checked in, I waiting in the car. The hotel is a big one with several entrance points. We always want to go in the door that makes for the shorted trip to the room. I have to push myself there, Joe's got to bring luggage, it makes sense. Joe got the chair out of the car and came over to my side. Then he did something odd, he sat down in my chair! He doesn't do that.

After I got out and in the room he said, "Did you notice me sit down in your chair?" I told him I had noticed and wondered why. He said, "Well, I opened the chair up and saw that it was still soaking wet from when we got in. I guess when I rolled it around from your side to the other side it collected a fair bit of rain." He said this as if this was enough explanation. I wasn't following, "And ...?" I asked. "And," he said, "I thought I'd get in and let my butt dry up the chair for you so you didn't get wet when you sat in it."

And, I ask you dear readers, who needs flowers?

20 comments:

Janelle said...

Delightful! The gift of a dry bottom is a wonderful way to say "I love you!", sadly Hallmark still thinks you need a card to do the job. Cleary, you and your Joe have it right.

Anonymous said...

awwwwwwww!!!I want, no!!! NEEEEEED a JOE!!!! Sad for all of us - but wonderful for you.... xxoo, He sounds like a one of a kind unique, WONDERFUL gift. YOU deserve each other :)

Anonymous said...

Joe - and man for all seasons!! :-)

Andrea S. said...

Aawww! :-)

Tamara said...

What a great guy!

Anonymous said...

What a sweet fella, that Joe...

I'd rather have a dry butt than a Hallmark card any day!

Sue

Nan said...

There's a butt with the grace of God.

Colleen said...

Dear Dave:

Joe certainly takes thoughtfulness to new heights (or depths???)

You are a lucky man - AND you have a dry butt!

Thanks for the smile
Colleen

Anonymous said...

True love!

Princeton Posse said...

LOL, What a man! How lucky you are...the both of you!

Kita said...

awww lovely! That is commitment! <3

wheeliecrone said...

Exactly!
Flowers fade, but genuine acts of thoughtfulness and consideration are lasting reminders of the real meaning of love.
You are both very lucky to have found each other.

Lisa Gleeson said...

You don't :). You have the gift of Joe.
Lisa

Beth said...

That's sweet.

Still... this is why I keep a towel handy. A big part of it. In the words of Douglas Adams:
"[...] any man that can hitch the length and breadth of the Galaxy, ruff it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through and still know where his towel is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with."
I know where my towel is. It's in my car. Which is, unfortunately, more than 90 minutes away, having been recently repaired. Happily, it's not raining. And I have other towels handy.
Joe was sweet, thoughtful. But I do not have a Joe's butt to count on. (And why count on a butt? Aren't fingers more useful for counting?) For all those without Joes willing to have wet rears for their comfort, I extol one of the many benefits of knowing where one's towel is (and that place being at hand.)

Baba Yaga said...

A true gentleman!

wendy said...

Love is a verb...it is not just what a person feels but what they DO. And Joe "does" love in a big way. How lucky are the pair of you?

sandi said...

Awwww! That's true love. What a sweetheart you have there.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing that story. My partner of many years passed away this year after a long and debilitating illness. We had many such moments, small kindnesses between us, mostly unwitnessed by and unknown to others. I'm sitting here now weeping, but in a good way. Much love and joy to you both.

Shan said...

Beth made me laugh out loud.

Joe makes me proud to be related.

Cynthia F. said...

I love Joe. Also, he's usually pretty much the saint of your blog so it was fun to hear that he has, um, colorful language moments while driving.