A couple of weeks ago I sat at a drive through whilst the teens behind the mike spoke to me in an alien tongue then refused to understand anything I said. It was mildly annoying but something I have come to expect. My native tongue is English yet Canadians still struggle to comprehend my, apparently, unique verbiage. Anyway, as I sat there I found myself watching a couple negotiate the snow banks to their car.
They were both in their late sixties, or there abouts, and I was charmed by his protective stance concerning his female companion. He helped her every step of the way then settled her in the car, switched on the engine and adjusted the heat for her. He then got back out of the car and bent his elbow to the task of sweeping snow from the car. She sat demurely and unruffled whilst bitter winds blotched angry red chills on his face. Ruffled and windswept he, uncomplainingly, swept away the snow. His hands clenched and unclenched as he struggled to keep them warm. He thrust one hand in a pocket and swept with the other. Then when it became too much, he switched hands. Such courage, and so vital when maintaining heat for a woman. She smiled kindly as he got back into the car; he smiled in return, sufficiently rewarded for his duty.
I thought of my wife sitting at home with blankets wrapped around her entire body to keep out the cold, despite the fact that the rest of the family were in shorts. Would I get a smile when I returned with her favourite coffee?
I have long since known that to keep a woman moderately happy on one level one should always keep her warm. They can suffer sudden heat loss at the drop of a hat and your day will be shot trying to chaff heat back into wilting extremities.
There was another couple some days before this. I pulled up in front of a Mac’s Milk at the same time as another driver. He got out locked the door and with head bent against the wind and clutching his Senators cap he entered the store. He too, like the first man, understood the need to keep his woman on the toasty side. She sat happily in the car, doors locked in case she should be stolen by a passing marauder, singing to a song I could not hear. Her Man braved the cold bitter winter to buy her some cookies. She was grateful, of course, and rewarded him with a peck on the cheek, an honour indeed I thought. I was warmed to realise that there were other men out there that had discovered the all-important need to keep that woman warm. I felt that there is hope for humanity after all.
The speaker cackled beside me and I bellowed back “NO! Two coffees!” Well maybe we still need to work on some things.