Second Hand Wife

"Special Today: Second Hand Wife, gently used"... Is that even appropriate? I just don't even know anymore.

Everyone should have a friend like my Stacey. I fall into her house, three days before Christmas, with both of my kids and their bags packed for a sleep over. As they rush up the stairs, their mother already forgotten, I slouch onto the couch next to her Andrew, to catch the tail end of a nature documentary, replete with little baby birds. Their home is a sanctuary of love, happiness and childhood memories. Stacey fills up their stomachs (and memories) with delicious Italian meals and fills  their hearts with happiness, mirth, and girlie shenanigans, excitement, trepidation, anxiety, counting down the hours until Sugar Plum Fairies dance in their heads and reindeer hooves scratch the eves of our houses.

They kept my children for three days, two nights, and I rushed to them the day before Christmas to gather my girls back, hopefully in a better state than which I left them. But I really don't know, my objectivity is always the first to go.

Who are these people who have so much to give? Who are these people who live and laugh and are pillars of support? How do some couples just work. From their time in high school until their days now. They just are. Together they are StAn (Stacey and Andrew)... And I really couldn't have done this without them.

"Stacey!" I said.... tears rolling down my cheeks.... "Stacey, I am a used wife"... "I am a second hand wife!"!!!! "No, bern... You are not a second hand wife! You are a certified pre-owned model, like at the BMW dealership!".... The words just roll off of her New York tongue like this is God's honest truth, pages out of the bible. And in an instant I feel alright again. Well hhmmm... I didn't look at it that way. I am so glad I am not a used wife at the $99 per week no credit check, buy here pay here lot in Gainesville! Suddenly I feel alright. I am not used. I am merely "certified". Stacey told me so!