Army Wife Stepmom

Our wedding day was fantastic. We were married in historic Memorial Chapel.  Aside from a personality clash with my dearest friends, our talented photographer and the chapel wedding coordinator, everything went off without a hitch. We began on time. The kids each performed their roles flawlessly. During our ring exchange, we spoke a few words to each other, and my husband's comments were something I will cherish forever.

At our reception at the Frontier Conference Center, the beef and chicken were tasty. Our simple pinecone-themed wedding cake was made just like I asked it to be.  Family members and best friends had traveled great distances to be with us.  Mingling with guests was great. All in all, I couldn't have asked for a better experience.

When the reception wound down, our friends loving decorated the car with white roses from the table centerpieces and we were off to our first honeymoon stop, a bed and breakfast in Weston, MO.

We arrived still dressed from the wedding; with me in my gown and veil and him in his Mess Dress complete with cavalry stetson and spurs. The inn manager took us on a tour of the house, which was a little tricky with all that extra fabric I was carrying around on 19th century staircases. We saw the game room, the room where we'd be served breakfast the next morning and the refrigerator where our sparkling cider and romance platters would be when we chose to retrieve them.

Finally, we were left to ourselves in our well-adorned and ridiculously comfortable room. One of the first things we did was change out of the wedding attire and I attempted to get a brush through my hair as well as brush my teeth. Enter the dilemma.

I pulled out my toothbrush and immediately remembered that I had no toothpaste. My tube ran out in the couple days before the wedding, and I had been sharing with my mom in our hotel room. I was hoping to just emerge from the bathroom and freshened up on my own, but had to humble myself enough to ask, "Hey, Honey? Can I borrow some toothpaste?"

This was, of course, not a problem. He gladly shared. Then he came in to brush his teeth. He discovered he had forgotten his toothbrush.

He looked over at me. I knew he had just shared with me, when I had forgotten something. It was a minor rescue of sorts from my own forgetfulness. But, a toothbrush is completely different from toothpaste. My mind was racing with all of my microbiology and principles of disease prevention my nursing education had equipped me with. I've never shared a toothbrush with anyone.  NEVER.  EVER.

I couldn't leave him hanging, and I did, naturally, WANT him to brush his teeth. So, I acquiesced and shared my toothbrush.

It may seem like a non-issue to you, but it was a huge lesson to me. This was my new life. We were just a couple hours into our marriage, and already, I had been taught that partners have different resources and talents, and sometimes the ones that the other lacks. But, when you're together, two really is stronger than one. Not to get too Jerry McGuire on you, but we had completed each other. Sharing all of me is not something I had done, but it was something I now needed to do.

There you have it. The parable of the toothbrush, a good beginning to a marriage.

And, in case you're wondering, the sharing of the toothbrush only lasted 48 hours, after which point we resumed separate dental hygiene tools.