My husband and I were at a Valentine's Dessert at our church Friday night. Mixed among the chocolates, candlelight, love songs, and desserts was a wacky rendition of The Newlywed Game.
A part of me wanted to be one of the couples chosen to participate, while the other part thought John and I might not score very high. It would all depend on the questions asked.
We were not called up front, though I played a very important role as Quality Control, having to nix many of the responses that Kent Fordyce tried to pull over on the others as being correct answers. To say he has a tendency to stretch the truth is putting it mildly! I must admit that he and Kathy did win the game fairly, beating out those who had been married fewer years than they have.
One of the questions the men were supposed to answer about their wives was this: Which would your wife think was the most romantic--a dozen roses, a picnic on the beach, or a quiet table at a fancy restaurant?
Though John and I weren't officially playing, we kept comparing our answers throughout the game and were doing quite well. So I was surprised when he said he would have picked the fancy restaurant as my romantic selection. I informed him that the picnic at the beach was more romantic to me.
"You mean you would rather eat peanut butter sandwiches on a sandy beach that stinks like seaweed and has a strong, cold wind blowing in your face?" he asked.
"Oh, that's not what my beach looked like," I replied. "I saw it as a beautiful day with a warm sun shining through the blue sky, a barely perceptible breeze brushing our cheeks, and a picnic basket filled with goodies."
What was appealing to me was appalling to him, simply because of our points of view. Isn't that often the way it is in life? Let's give each other the opportunity to explain where we're coming from before we decide we disagree!