The Beauty of it All

Last week on Facebook, I posted that my husband and I went to see Beauty and the Beast. I. Hate. Movies. Ok, wait. I hate GOING to the movies. There, that’s better. I really struggle with the fact that we pay a whole lot of money to even get into a movie, get the obligatory popcorn, snacks, or whatever (you need to know that my husband considers himself an expert in the popcorn field), and you sit. And sit. And sit. For two hours, you sit. And you don’t talk. For two hours. You sit, quietly, and have this weird notion that you’ve gone on a “date.” That may be a date for my husband (it’s actually Heaven for him, if he’s being totally honest), but it is NOT a date for me. I love to talk. That will come as no surprise to you, but there it is, ok? I. Love. To. Talk. I’m not ashamed, I’m not embarrassed. Some people actually even like to listen to me talk.  But the movies is not a date for me. It’s a punishment when I didn’t even do anything wrong. I have never, ever, ever left a movie that I had to sit through in a theater and been thrilled I was there. Even if I loved the movie, generally speaking, I would have rather watched it at home so I could talk to my people during the flick. Judge on, I don’t care.

My husband, on the other hand, LOVES going to the movies. And because I do not, he very frequently takes one or both of our boys to the movies without me (Hallelujah!). When I say “frequently,” I mean that they go to the movies at least a couple times a month, which is insane to me. But Corey and both boys love it, so it’s pretty awesome for all of them. And I get a couple hours home with nobody to interrupt my latest Netflix binge. Win-win, I’d say.

This week was a little different for us. Corey tried numerous times throughout the week to take me to see “Beauty and the Beast” but I had an excuse every time. I had Weight Watchers one night, I had to work super early another morning, stuff like that. But Friday afternoon, after I woke up from a really, really great 3-hour nap (dude, don’t judge), Corey said I had two choices. 4:35 or 8pm. I knew he wasn’t going to let up, so I chose 4:35, mostly because I knew there would be the feeding of this Beast after and we had to get up super early for a volleyball tournament on Saturday. I’m nothing if not forward thinking, y’all. But Corey was happy with a “yes” answer, so he swooped me up and out of the house before I could change my mind. Because my husband knows, from the depths of who he is, when something is going to make me happy or when something is a little extra meaningful, even when I don’t. He is pretty cool like that.

I will not go into movie review details. I actually have zero desire to tell you anything except how much I loved that movie. I sat, for over two hours, with my hands to my mouth in wonder. I didn’t even want to talk except when I asked him, “Did she say, ‘Mr. Potts?” I wanted to occasionally hold my husband’s hand and scooch closer to him because a part was particularly meaningful, or I wanted to sing, which I didn’t do in fear of people throwing things at me. But I sat. For two hours, I sat. And I would do it again.

Tale as old as time
True as it can be
Barely even friends
Then somebody bends
Unexpectedly

Just a little change
Small to say the least
Both a little scared
Neither one prepared
Beauty and the beast

See, we have a little Beauty and the Beast thing going in this house and my husband knows it. Even though the original movie came out in 1991 and we didn’t even meet until 1995, the movie has always been the ONE animated Disney movie that I have loved. Maybe it was something about a brown-haired, brown-eyed princess. Maybe it was the music. I don’t know. But I have always loved it. I loved it so much that when, in 1996, it was time to pick out wedding invitations, I wanted Beauty and the Beast invitations. I didn’t want a theme, I just wanted the invitations. They were us. Big ol, strapping, strong protector holding a little brunette that fit perfectly in his arms, against his chest to keep her safe. That was us. That is still us. That will always be us. I knew it even then.

Ever just the same
Ever a surprise
Ever as before and ever just as sure as the sun will rise
Ever just the same
Ever a surprise
Ever as before
Ever just as sure
As the sun will rise

But I wasn’t sure that having a Beauty and the Beast invitation was the greatest of ideas regarding what others would say. I didn’t want anyone thinking I was calling Corey a beast (ummm…even though I kind of was). So when I told Corey, “Do you think this is a good idea? I don’t want anyone making fun of the whole ‘Beast’ thing” and he said, “Don’t worry, baby. I will never let anyone else call you a beast,” I called the company and ordered the invitations. Because truth be told, Corey knows what’s up. Corey knows what I have always known: I am a beast. And not in that “Train hard, be a beast” kind of way. I am difficult to love, tough to handle, and should be impossible to live with for about 756,895,734 reasons. But he doesn’t care. Or he cares too much to let those reasons get in the way. Either way, he is quite the Beauty for loving me. Quite the Beauty.

Tale as old as time
Tune as old as song
Bitter sweet and strange
Finding you can change
Learning you were wrong

Certain as the sun
Certain as the sun
Rising in the east
Tale as old as time
Song as old as rhyme
Beauty and the beast

I fell in love with Corey damn near the moment I met him. We were at a wedding (Corey is a medically retired cop and two of his cop friends were getting married…my dad and Corey were partners at work at the time, so that explains why we were all there) and he asked my mom my favorite song so he could ask me to dance. Throwing the fact that I was there with another date aside, the DJ played “Brown-Eyed Girl” and Corey asked me to dance. My date told me to go ahead and dance with Corey because he (said date) didn’t dance. So Corey moved and grooved with me to my favorite song and asked me, “Have you ever been swept off your feet?” To which I answered with the words that changed my life forever: “Nah. But I’m sweepable.” The dude found a broom–A REAL BROOM–and started sweeping at my feet. Like, literally sweeping at my feet. To be fair, we were at an outdoor wedding and there were stables nearby. Still…seriously? Dude was in the zone.

From a couple of days later and until this very moment, he was my Beauty and I became his Beast. He protected me (literally moved me out of harm’s way and physically put himself in front of me more than once), he honored me, he made me feel beautiful, supported me, believed in me, partnered with me, counseled me, gave me more than one swift kick, and gave me a life that has fit me like a glove while I became the biggest pain in his neck (and several other body parts) possible and made his job as my protector and provider very, very difficult. I am not the perfect wife, y’all. We may be perfect together, but the room for improvement for me in the arena of wifing is vast. Vast, I say. Seriously, I am beastly, but he loves me anyway. And he loves me perfectly.

 

We are not a fairy tale. We don’t have some cookie cutter life with cookie cutter kids and cookie cutter problems. When I explain our situation to people, with Corey being home and me working outside the house, we get weird looks because the situation is weird, I guess. I don’t know. It works pretty well for us to have the father in this family home with his teenaged sons. Do the kids need as much supervision and guidance as they used to? Nah. Well, maybe. Maybe it’s just different. Corey is here when the boys have questions and statements that I just either can’t or don’t want to deal with. Seriously, some of the stuff these boys want to talk about is way out of my wheelhouse and my comfort zone. “Go talk to your father!” is a common phrase shouted around this joint. And I’m thankful their father is engaged and active in picking up what they’re putting down and I just wouldn’t be willing to trade it for anything. And quite frankly, I don’t know that anyone would fit into the spot that is custom made for this Beast right at her Beauty’s chest. And that is what makes us kind of a fairy tale.

Tale as old as time
Song as old as rhyme
Beauty and the beast

 

 

 

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