Eric Holen

As a disclaimer, Yvette forbade me to tweet this story, but she didn’t say anything about not writing a blog post.

Earlier today, Yvette took her mom and me on a shopping trip to Kohl’s and Wal-Mart so that she could buy some new blouses and a pair of shoes for work. She asked me, before going to Wal-Mart, if I was hungry to which I answered that I could wait. However, at the time, I didn’t know it would stretch into over a 2 hours of clothes shopping.

When we finished, both Yvette’s mom and I were very hungry. So to avoid that “what do you want” I headed to the closest place, Cracker Barrel. We had a great meal, with Yvette going for the low carb burger (no bun).

At the end of the meal, she mentioned that she wanted to find some low calorie smoothies for the house as a snack. As we headed to H-E-B for grocery shopping, with our bellies relatively full, I brought up smoothies and asked if she wanted to check out the new Blizz Frozen Yogurt.

You would have thought it was Christmas. Yvette jumped on the idea, saying we could grocery shop after a little dessert.

Blizz has something like 10 different flavors of frozen yogurt with almost 30 different toppings. You grab your cup (medium or large), fill it with some yogurt and then add your toppings.

I had some cappuccino yogurt with a small slash of caramel Twix. Yvette had some yogurt, at least I think there was yogurt, and then something like 15 out of the available toppings.

About halfway through her cup, she gave up. It was too much, too cold, and too sweet.

As we were walking out, she told her mom and me that it was my fault. I should not have let her add that many toppings. Now feeling a little miserable, she cancelled the grocery shopping so we could go home.

We have been happily married for over 14 years. I will accept that it was my fault for allowing her to add too many toppings today. However, in the future, I still won’t open my mouth when I think she is having a little too much. That’s how happy marriages stay that way.

For the last three months, and with little deviation, Yvette and I have gotten up early four days a week. Yvette so that she can work out with her torturer trainer Kaci at Elite BodyWorks three days a week and me so that I can go to Plum Fit, the gym next door those same three days and an extra day together.

Yet despite our schedule, due in large by Yvette’s choice and to support her health, her favorite words each and every morning are “5 more minutes”.

It doesn’t matter if I try to get her up at 5:00 am as soon as the first alarm goes off or at 5:30 am when we are running dangerously close to her being late to her trainer. She always asks for additional time.

I wouldn’t mind giving her the 5 more minutes if as soon as she got up, we could be heading for the door. However, this is how her morning goes.

After a few series of snoozes on the alarm clock and at least one 5 more minutes, she will wake up, but not get up. She’ll reach over to scratch Potter, our youngest dog, who she insists is keeping her in bed. Then she strolls to the bathroom and then back out to start getting ready. Finally, she strolls out to the garage so we can speed off to the gym and her trainer.

Meanwhile, during her “wake up” routine I have let the dogs out, started the coffee, finished packing the lunches, filled the dogs’ food and water bowls, and gotten dressed.

I try to push her out of the house as fast as she will move so that I can run my 5K in the gym. When we are behind schedule, I fall back to my dumbbell routine.

I think, at least in Yvette’s mind, a perfect world would be where she could get up between 8:00 and 9:00 am every day.

Despite my coaching, prodding and pushing to get her out of bed each morning, I am thankful that the two of us support each other and our health.

Yvette and I have been married over 14 years and I still can’t explain sorting her colored underwear.

This evening, after dinner I grabbed the hamper and started sorting the dirty clothes to prepare for the weekend wash. For the most part, sorting clothes follows some logical rules. All of the towels and washcloths, regardless of color, go in one pile. Yvette’s work clothes, again regardless of color, go in another pile so she can wash them on gentle cycle (I think). The whites, lights and darks each go in their respective piles.

Then comes the underwear. There are different rules for my underwear versus Yvette’s underwear.

My underwear follows the general color rules. My white underwear goes in the whites, my grey underwear goes in the lights, and my black underwear goes in the darks.

However, Yvette’s underwear does not follow any of the previous rules.

Instead, her white, nude, rose, red, blue and black underwear goes in the whites. It doesn’t matter the color, they all go in the whites.

This is her rule and just like all rules in marriage, I follow them which helps to explain 14 years of happy marriage.

On Saturday afternoon, I lied to Yvette. Here it is Wednesday, and she has not yet forgotten or forgiven me.

This wasn’t a slipup on my part, or even an oversight. When the words left my mouth, I knew outright that I was telling a blatant lie to Yvette and her mom who was in the vehicle with us.

Maybe if I had given it a little more thought, I might have said something else. However, no matter what I said, it still would have been a lie.

By Saturday evening, Yvette and her mom knew something wasn’t right when I did not live up to my earlier statement. Then came Sunday and I still did not come through.

Yes, I lied.

Saturday afternoon, we had gone to Red Lobster, Yvette’s very favorite restaurant, for lunch. On the way back home, we were going to pass by the Dairy Queen in Kyle before turning home. As we were getting off the freeway, both Yvette and her mom started asking if we could stop for a Blizzard. I hesitated. As we drove up the frontage road, they kept persisting that we should stop for a Blizzard. Finally, as we drew near to Dairy Queen, I lied. I said I was too full to enjoy ice cream and that we would go back later that evening.

That was a big boldfaced lie since I had no intention of driving them back to Dairy Queen for a Blizzard.

Later that evening, they asked to go back to Dairy Queen. I said I wasn’t in the mode, but they could drive themselves, which I knew likely would not happen. I think it’s easier for the two of them to justify something like ice cream if they can get me to take them there. On Sunday, they asked again to go to Dairy Queen. Still, I told them they could drive themselves, yet they didn’t go.

Here it is Wednesday, and they remind me that I lied to them. But they also remind me that the weekend is right around the corner and I can make it up to them.

Yvette, I am sorry I lied to you. We will go to Dairy Queen on Saturday so that you can have your Blizzard (hint: This is another lie).

Yesterday, I checked us in, using Facebook Places, to Railroad Bar-B-Que for their all-you-can-eat catfish. I hadn’t given it much thought, since I had checked Yvette and I into other restaurants in the past. I shared with Yvette that one of her Facebook friends had already “liked” the check-in. That’s when Yvette commented that she was concerned with others who might see my check-in.

Yvette has been going to Elite BodyWorks for the last three months. Three days a week, she gets an intensive workbook from Kaci or Stephanie, her torturers trainers. They have been working to help Yvette’s overall health and reduce her insulin intake, by working with her on diet and exercise. Yvette was concerned that they might see my post about where we were eating.

So as a disclaimer, whenever I check Yvette and me into a restaurant, anyone who is monitoring should know that Yvette always eats the healthiest items on the menu. That includes the occasional Tuesday when Yvette demands begs asks, I drag her to dollar scoop Tuesdays at Baskin-Robbins.

On a side note, the catfish on Railroad Bar-B-Que tasted great, the sides not so much. However, it was on the expensive side and we aren’t likely to go there again.