Small changes make big differences.

Tuesdays with MOJO / The bloom is off the rose: An ode to my Italian man

Marjorie Spitz RentoComment

Last week I had a cold.  I was out to dinner with dear friends, reinstituting a Margarita Monday ritual – it was national Margarita Day for goodness sake!  My name is “Margarita” in Spanish, and my favorite flower (the daisy) is “Marguerite” in French, so how could I not?  Plus, it was the one-year anniversary of my knee injury.  Anyway, I digress.

Toward the middle of dinner I started to get congested.  Initially I thought I was having a reaction to a scent or ingredient, when it dawned on me – duh, I was getting a cold.

I am the queen of zinc drops and hydrating, but colds can happen to even the most diligent of us.

I am not one of those wives who primp all day and arrive at the door dressed to the nines when my husband arrives home.  I’ve always taken pride in taking care of myself and believe in the magic of make up, but just don't have the patience to spend hours doing my hair and face paint.  Experimenting with multiple brands and colors, using my face as a canvas, or utilizing multiple hair styling devices every morning just isn’t for me, and my husband likes it that way.

Bob encourages my independence and maintains a good sense of humor about the fact that we live (and I work) out of a bite-sized space.   And when he comes home and I’m still in my sweats with my head down in the computer, having never seen the light of day, he greets me with the same enthusiasm and affection as if I were wearing a hot number and smelling grand. 

So when this cold came on, and I was blowing my nose like the Montauk fog horn and even (I’m told) snoring, he still saw me as his delicate flower and thought it cute.   He said, quote “I never hear you snore and it was adorable.”  The bloom is sure off the rose, but not to him.  Or me for that matter. 

So today’s Tuesdays with MOJO is an ode to my fabulous, handsome, strong and sexy husband and biggest fan, Bob.

Please indulge me while I gush.

Whether he expanding the pickle business, on the slopes, making me watch a horrible action movie, gathering up the laundry, bringing friends pickles, surprising me with flowers, setting up a date night, opening up an impossible screw cap, acting as photographer, planting me daisies or being a great dad, he is simply THE BEST.

Not only does he do all of that, but he builds the most perfect fires, looks out for my friends and family, lugs my skis around, takes a photo when I’m being escorted down the mountain by ski patrol (yes, at that exact moment I was thinking to myself“he better be taking a picture right now”), drives near and far to see me (even in his most dreaded thing, traffic), dresses up with my friends for Halloween and indulges me in listening to Howard.

He even occasionally let’s me pick the movie or vacation spot, tries new healthy foods, and participates in community protests.

To call me he tells Siri to call “wifey,” and on my end this picture comes up (right).  It makes us both smile.

He’s kind, affectionate and humble, and the way he looks at me makes me blush.

For all that and more, thank you Bob Rento.   I don’t tell you enough, how much I appreciate and love you.  There are so many who think we’re a fantastic couple, and I enthusiastically concur.  I’m a lucky gal indeed.

There are definitely times when we take our partners for granted, and in this busy world that is natural.   Today, in ode to my Italian husband, won’t you please take a moment to compliment your own partner in crime?    

Just spend 2 minutes to reflect on why you chose him/her and embody that.  Call, write, text, post or make it a priority when you see each other tonight.  Consider:  How can you make this important person in your life feel special today?  It will make his/her day for sure!

Gratefully yours,

Marjorie, Chief MOJO Maker™