In Laura’s first-grade class, each child gets a turn to be Chief of the Week. The student brings in a poster filled with photographs, trophies, awards, and perhaps a few favorite things to display throughout the week. At the end of the week, the student does an oral presentation about herself, to which the parents are invited. If you had been there to see it, you’d swear that Laura must have attended Toddler Toastmasters. Her speech was flawlessly delivered to a room full of her peers and invited guests without even a hint of nervousness or stage fright.
Where Tom works, only one employee gets to be Chief Patent Counsel. In just under nine years with the company, Tom was offered, and accepted, the position. This is a huge accomplishment and I am so proud of him, so much so that I’ve been looking at Tom lately with joy in my heart—and a special gleam in my eye. The only way that I can think to explain this invigorated ardor that I’ve been feeling for my husband is this: It is like when a doe is standing around in a forest minding her own business and a fourteen-point stag happens to mosey by. That doe is naturally going to perk up. It’s a Darwinian thing. Females naturally seek to select the strongest of the species. So when a husband accomplishes something of this magnitude, a wife gets to revisit the feelings that made her select him in the first place. When I heard of Tom’s promotion, despite the low-dose birth control pills that I take to manage my perimenopausal symptoms, I swear I felt an ovum slip down one of my Fallopian tubes. Dude is that hot.
So last week, the two chiefs (and a couple of braves) went to the Happiest Place on Earth to celebrate.