The Norman Transcript
NORMAN — It has occurred to me that no longer should I consider myself a newlywed.
I’m not even sure what the statute of limitations is on that kind of title, but I would guess after almost nine years together, we can consider ourselves an old married couple. And a few signs earlier in the week led me to believe this was as true as it’s ever been.
The first instance was a late night stumble from living room to bathroom to do the nightly toothbrush routine. I grabbed a brush, globbed on some paste and went to town on my pearly whites. It was a few minutes later that it was time for the old rinse and spit routine.
Still a bit groggy from a late night Internet search on what is the best apple crisp recipe — that research is still ongoing by the way — I rinsed off the toothbrush, only to realize I’d just used the red toothbrush. Not the green one, the one that was assigned to me.
For months, my toothbrush had been the red one and, for some reason, during the last toothbrush shopping spree, my husband declared the crimson and cream one as his. Talk about your dedicated college sports fan.
At first I was a bit grossed out. The 8-year-old girl in me after realizing what she had done worried about a cootie outbreak.
Then the old married lady in me realized that in the course of a relationship, accidentally sharing a toothbrush was the least grossest thing that happens.
The next morning, it seems as if this time my early morning grogginess took over, someday I hope to realize I’m too old to stay up all hours in the night to search for apple crisp recipes. This time, I went searching for a pair of socks. I only own three pairs. I’m just not a sock wearer.
But still, I usually know exactly where those three pairs of socks are. When you keep a low inventory, it’s usually easier to keep track of your personal belongings.
But not this time. OK, well, maybe my mind was still on apple crisp, but I couldn’t find any socks. I looked in every possible spot and then I realized I should look, as a last resort, in my husband’s sock drawer. And there they were. All three pairs of white athletic socks just waiting to be busted out of the dark and worn around town.
At first, I grabbed the socks and went to put them on. It wasn’t until a few moments later, I realized that when it comes to socks and toothbrushes, I’ve got no secrets. We have to stay together, not only for the tax break, but now if we ever were to break up, I’d have no place to put my socks and I’d be without a toothbrush. Yes, old married couple is our new title.