When Seth was home in May, he remarked on his father’s dreadful posture as he worked on his laptop computer. I told Seth that I’d stopped nagging Peter about it because it just makes him angry.
But Seth had a solution. For Father’s Day, he and Jeremy would get Peter a large monitor that he would have to sit up straight to see.
It took three separate deliveries—the monitor, the wireless keyboard and the wireless track-pad. For once, Peter’s lack of attention paid off and I managed to get all three parts into the house without his noticing. Example: Me: “Honey, was that the doorbell?” Peter: “No”. Me: “Well I’d better check. Nope, it was nothing,” I said as I walked by our study carrying a huge package.
When Peter opened Seth’s Father’s Day card that Friday, it mentioned the gift without revealing what it was, but it said that he expected it to be in use by the time he called on Sunday. So I decided to give it to Peter early.
I have known my husband for fifty-one years. I have never seen him cry. But his reaction to this thoughtful, caring gift from his children looked a lot like tears were going to appear. I said, “If you were a crier, would you be crying now?”