If you asked me who knows me best in the world, I’d have to say Luc.
This year, we’ll be celebrating our 20th wedding anniversary. That same month (October) will mark 22 years that we’ve been together.
Luc knows my routines, my moods and my quirks. He understands my hopes, my dreams and my fears. He loves me. He accepts me for who I am.
He’d also be the first to tell you that I’m a total control freak.
Cases in point:
- I keep lists of everything: grocery lists, to-do lists, rainy day project lists.
- I keep an overall budget spreadsheet, I save all of our receipts until the Visa bill comes in, and I enter every last little cash purchase, right down to a pack of gum, into an app.
- I meticulously keep track of every dentist, doctor and specialist appointment for the four of us, including results and follow-ups.
- Everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) goes on the family calendar. (My mantra: If it’s not on the calendar, it doesn’t exist.)
- I colour code the file folders in the filing cabinet. I colour code the labels on the colour-coded file folders. I colour code the writing on the colour-coded labels on the colour-coded file folders…
- And although my spices may not be alphabetized, they are grouped by which ones are most likely to be used together in a recipe (MUCH more efficient!)
Yes, I need to plan ahead. Yes, I need details. Yes, I have trouble delegating. No, I’m not very good at spontaneity.
Luc knows all of this.
But a couple of weeks ago, I learned that even he doesn’t know every little thing about me.
I was reading an article in The Ottawa Citizen about an upcoming production of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. The elaborate set was designed by an Alberta-based puppet company and the show incorporates other elements of puppetry.
“That reminds me of the Shakespearean puppet show I was in in university,” I commented to Luc, pointing to the article.
“A puppet show?” he said. “You were in a Shakespearean puppet show?”
Now, I realize that “Shakespeare” and “puppets” don’t often come up in everyday conversation (let alone in the same sentence). So my chances over the past 22 years of ever having used that as a segue to telling him about my briefest of stage careers as the courtesan (and other bit speaking roles) in the 1989 Brescia College production of The Comedy of Errors were pretty slim. But still. If anyone were to know that tiny little tidbit of personal information about me, it would be Luc.
It just goes to show that no matter how well you know someone (and their control freak–dare I say “puppet master”–tendencies) there’s always more to learn.