Happily Ever Laughter: Discovering the Lighter Side of Marriage
160
Happily Ever Laughter: Discovering the Lighter Side of Marriage
160eBook
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Overview
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781604829563 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Focus on the Family |
| Publication date: | 02/01/2013 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 160 |
| File size: | 725 KB |
Read an Excerpt
happily ever laughter
discovering the lighter side of marriageTyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Copyright © 2010 The Livingstone CorporationAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-58997-580-4
Chapter One
What I Want in a Man As the Years Go By Ken Davis
Sometimes it's good to have realistic expectations. For example, here's something my wife, Diane, wrote ...
Here's the list of things I wanted in a man before I got married:
Handsome, charming, stylish dresser, thoughtful, in great physical condition, and romantic
Here's how I revised the list at age thirty:
Nice looking; opens car doors; is a good listener; works out some and is in decent shape; remembers anniversaries, birthdays, and other important events in our lives; and is romantic at least once a week
Here's what I wanted in a man at forty-one:
Not too ugly, waits until I'm in the car before driving away, acts as if he's listening, holds stomach in, remembers to put the toilet seat down, and often shaves on the weekends
And the revised list at fifty-two:
Usually combs hair that's left, asks if I'd like a ride, stays awake when I'm talking, wears a shirt that covers his stomach, rarely forgets my name, and sometimes shaves on the weekends
The new list for sixty-three:
Keeps nose- and ear-hair trimmed, can still drive, doesn't make bodily noises or scratch in public, usually wears fresh underwear and matching socks, remembers why he went into a room, and usually shaves
Here's what I will want at seventy-four:
Looks don't scare small children, can still find the bathroom, usually wears some clothes, likes soft foods, knows where he left his teeth, and can remember that it is the weekend
Finally, what I will want at age eighty-five:
Is breathing and can hit the toilet
The older you are, the easier to meet the expectations!
LAUGH LESSON
Aging may not seem like a laughing matter, but you'll be much better off if you do learn to laugh with the changes that age brings. Then you're not so apt to be disappointed with each other. And besides, nose hair really is kind of funny ...
Chapter Two
Bearer of the RingBob Stromberg
The marriage begins with the wedding, and young Bob Stromberg gives us the inside view from one participant.
The Event: My sister Sally and I at our Aunt Audrey's wedding
The Date: August 22, 1959
The Photographer: My father
I am seven years old and I am sharp! Sharp is a word I've just learned in this context and never before used to describe myself. A couple of hours ago, before the wedding, my mother pinned a flower on my jacket. Then licking her fingers and flattening down my eyebrows, she said, "Young man, you are dapper dandy." I understand why she said it. After all, she's never seen me in a tuxedo before-what my new uncle Ted calls a "penguin suit." She was surprised and quite impressed with my appearance, so she called me "dapper dandy." It means that I am very handsome, and indeed I am-particularly today as I am wearing white dress shoes ... unscuffed!
Though I appreciate my mother's comment, my enthusiasm is tempered by the fact that she also made a terrible fuss over how beautiful my sister Sally looks in her flower-girl dress. Please don't misunderstand me. I, too, am impressed with the dress. It's pretty big-much like Cinderella's gown at the ball-and the outfit includes a stylish little crown with a table doily. It is an impressive ensemble, though I must say I think Sally herself looks much like she always does. But, hey ... if Mom thinks that she is beautiful ... well ... fine.
I am not beautiful, though, and I'm not dapper dandy either. I am sharp. I know this because before the wedding my new uncle Ted (whose outfit is just like mine only much bigger) looked at me and said, "Whoa, Bobby." He grabbed me by the shoulders and squared me off for a good look. "I gotta say it. You, my man, are sharp."
What was I supposed to say? "Oh no, I'm not sharp. I'm dapper dandy." No ... I'm happy to be sharp and proud to be a ring bearer.
I remember well when Aunt Audrey and her boyfriend, Ted, asked Sally and me to be in their wedding party. By the way, don't be fooled by the term wedding party. It might sound fun, but that's just so the two people getting married can get friends to come. It's no party at all. For one thing, it doesn't just take one night. It takes practically a whole weekend. When you join a wedding party, you are committing yourself to an evening without friends, sitting in a church, and rehearsing for the actual party that happens the next day. And even that is more like going to church than a party. The whole deal is pretty serious-not a lot of fun.
Audrey is our favorite aunt. She is quite beautiful. She has eyeglasses with real gems glued in the corners. She used to be a majorette in high school and wore white cowboy boots with a short skirt while twirling a baton. I don't think I could ever do that. But I could show you the boots and baton, because I know right where they are in her old bedroom closet at my grandparents' house. I really liked her boyfriend, Ted, a lot too. He has curly hair and is what is called "a giant." I knew he'd make a great uncle.
Audrey asked if Sally would be her flower girl and then went on to explain what the job entails. Sally went crazy with excitement, probably because all she had to do is walk in with a bunch of flowers, stand there for three or four hours, and then walk back out again. As long as she didn't have to pee or pass out, she could hardly fail.
Then Ted asked me if I would be his ring bearer. My job description was a bit more ominous. I would be entrusted with the actual wedding ring in the "best of view" at the back of the church. I would need to carry the ring clear to the pulpit in the front of the church-a distance of nearly four hundred yards. To make matters worse, I would not be permitted to touch the ring with my hands but would balance it upon a tiny satin pillow. I am only seven. My knowledge of fabrics is limited, but even I know that satin is slippery.
I was sitting on the couch in our living room. Ted was in a chair on the other side of the coffee table, waiting for my answer. "I'm wondering about the material on that pillow," I said. "Why does it have to be satin?"
"I'm not really sure," he said. "It's just always satin."
"Yeah, I understand that," I said, "but I was wondering if we could maybe use a scratchy wool or burlap. Even corduroy would work fine."
"Nope," he said laughing, "I'm pretty sure Audrey wants the pillow to be satin."
"Rubber might be nice," I countered.
"No," he said, "I think we'll stick with satin. The pillow's already been ordered."
"How big is the ring?" I asked.
From the other side of the room, Audrey held up her hand, flashing a band with a diamond setting. "Just a little bigger than this one," she said.
I didn't want to say it, but I was concerned about the heat registers in the floor just inside the "best of view." If I tripped, that ring could slide off that slippery satin and fall down into a register. If that happened, it would be lost forever, like one of my mother's earrings and several of my peppermint candies.
"How much did the ring cost?" I asked nervously.
The adults laughed, and my mother said, "Bobby, it's not polite to ask how much things cost."
"How much do you think it cost?" Ted said.
"Well, I don't know. Maybe a million dollars?" I said. More laughter from the adults.
My father spoke up. "I'll tell you something. That ring is worth far more than a million. That ring is gonna cost Ted every bit of freedom he ever had."
More laughter.
I never did find out for sure how much it cost, but I'm guessing it was about a million and one hundred dollars.
Ted was waiting for an answer.
"Yes," I said finally. "I will do it. I will bear your ring." I felt the weight of great responsibility settle on my young, narrow shoulders.
Now I'm standing next to Sally on the steps of the church after the wedding. She is still holding her flowers. She did fine considering the little that was required. I, on the other hand, performed excellently.
Before we walk out the door, a lady says to me, "You did a great job, young man." Then reaching for a basket on the back pew, she says, "Oh, wait ... I have something just for you." I am excited, as I'd not been expecting payment for my services. The lady turns toward me and empties a napkin full of rice into my hands. I have no idea why.
"Gee, thanks," I say. "You shouldn't have."
Sally looks a bit miffed.
We walk out the door. Our dad, the wedding photographer, is standing on the sidewalk with his camera. "Wait you two. Hold it right there!" he shouts. So we do, and a bunch of other people start snapping pictures too. I'm feeling a bit awkward, trying hard not to spill any rice. It's okay, though. I can handle it because I am sharp.
* * *
More than fourteen years later I stood at the front of another church and, once again, I was sharp-this time in a polyester brown tuxedo with a yellow ruffled shirt. One could hardly look sharper in 1974. I stood beside the love of my life-a beautiful girl, only eighteen years old. She wore a wedding dress. Her little brother walked down the aisle with a tiny satin pillow holding our gold rings. He was far less disciplined than I'd been years before. Had the rings not been attached, he surely would have lost them. A pastor asked me a series of questions, each one requiring a response. At the end I answered, "Yes. I will." What I meant was "Yes. I will bear the ring."
It was a far riskier pledge this time around. This ring I would bear whether sick or healthy, rich or poor-in both good times and bad. I know some who are unable to make such a commitment. They are afraid to even try. I know others who tried, some for a long while, and then gave up. I don't judge them. It is serious business bearing this ring.
I have done so for nearly four decades and will until the day I die. Years ago I worried that the ring would slip off my finger. There is no chance of that now. Whenever I remove it (which is seldom), I'm surprised to see how it has left a permanent mark in my skin-how my finger has changed its very shape to hold the ring safely. And here is the mysterious thing: Every year the ring takes on more weight, and every year it is lighter and more joyous to bear.
LAUGH LESSON
That spontaneous wedding joy needs to be preserved and nourished through the years. Your perspective on the wedding ceremony will certainly change over time. When the ring bearer becomes a ring wearer, the added significance of the role greatly increases the depth and length of responsibility-but also the joy. Savor the memories.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from happily ever laughter Copyright © 2010 by The Livingstone Corporation. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Welcome to Happily Ever Laughter Ken Davis 1
1 What I Want in a Man as the Years Go By Ken Davis 5
2 Bearer of the Ring Bob Stromberg 7
3 Here Comes the Bride Kendra Smiley 13
4 Brush with Reality Dave Veerman 17
5 Marriage Grooming John Branyan 21
6 Can You Hear Me Now? Len Woods 27
7 I'm Not OK, and Neither Is My Wife Ken Davis 31
8 The Man Who Will Not Let.Me Sleep Amanda Huddle 37
9 Let it Snow Len Woods 41
10 The Ninety-Five Irritations Phil Callaway 45
11 Inventing Blackened Chicken Tom Burggraf 49
12 Marriage License John Branyan 53
13 Finding Our Way Chonda Pierce 59
14 Technical Difficulties Chonda Pierce 63
15 Garage Sale Daren Streblow 69
16 Wait Until Next Year! Dave Veerman 73
17 I Married Above Myself David Dean 77
18 The Glamorous Life of a Klutz Amanda Huddle 83
19 Before and After the Marriage Vows Dave Veerman 87
20 If It Isn't Broken, Wait a Few Minutes Neil Wilson 91
21 Jesus Laughed Jeff Allen 97
22 Camp Trust-a-Lot Rhonda Rhea 101
23 Of Skunks and Men John Pickerl 105
24 The Great Experiment Rhonda Rhea 111
25 Extended Family John Branyan 117
26 We Came, We Bought, We Suffered John Pickerl 121
27 Ideals, Expectations, and Reality Jim Smith 127
28 The Twenty-One Year Mile Marker John Branyan 133
29 Why Can't She Just Lie to Me? Charles Marshall 141
30 The Perfect Marriage Ken Davis 145