My husband and I are opposites in every way. We don’t even hang our bath towels up the same way. I have never been diagnosed, but I do have some OCD tendencies. And although I don’t rehang his towel, every day I adjust it on the bar so it dries more easily. He doesn’t even know I do this, but if he’s reading this, I do.
Huh. I do. Those two words, said over 20 years ago, are what caused having opposite hung towels in my bathroom.
If the theory that opposites attract is to be believed, then our contrasting behaviors should make my face flush and heart pound from affection, not annoyance, as is often the case. I’m not a social scientist, but I am an old wife. And my “research” indicates that what draws us to each other is not the differences , but the things we do have in common. And, of course, the ignorance that comes with a new love. Because if I had known at our wedding ceremony that I would spend the next 8,400 and counting days fixing his towel, I’d be not an old wife but an old maid. With one perfectly hung lonely towel.
