I spent my afternoon “helping” Joe assemble an outdoor gas grill. My role was to be a second pair of eyes. Fortunately for both Joe and me, he has really good eyes.
While I was “helping,” my mind wandered to a couple of thoughts.
First, Joe is really sharp when it comes to assembling things. He can look at a drawing or instructions and quickly figure out what’s needed. I, on the other hand, had the simpler job of reading the instructions—and even then, it sometimes took me a few minutes to figure out what I was looking at. Joe would take the page from me, glance at it, then hand it back and start gathering parts. He’d show me how it all went together. We had to jockey some pieces around here and there, but we kept moving.
The second thought was about how patient Joe is. Every time he did something that wasn’t in the instructions, I’d ask why. Except I know it didn’t always come across as a question—it probably sounded more like a challenge. I could hear myself. And considering that he’s got something like 83,200 hours of mechanical experience to my, generously, ten hours over forty years, it’s clear who the expert is. The fact that he still listens to me, explains things, and works with me says a lot about his patience—and his kindness.
The grill is now fully assembled, settled on our patio, and our marriage remains intact.
It’s worth noting, though, that he hasn’t invited me to the garage to help with his next project. He’s prepping for a Girl Scout activity Megan asked him to help with next Saturday. The plan is for the girls to build two wooden boxes to store sticks for a local dog park. They’ll get to measure, use power tools, and varnish. We have dinner plans later that day—or else I’m pretty sure Joe would find a way to teach them how to weld too.
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