a moment in the day: bill

Saturday morning, and just about time for Stephen to leave for work. I come down the stairs to say goodbye, quick footsteps of Nicholas on the steps behind me. We come into the dining room. Just around the corner in the little den-slash-clothing room, where our bureau is and our clothing racks since there are, as of yet, no closets in this house, Stephen is singing.

I used to dream that I would discover
The perfect lover someday.
I knew I'd recognize him if ever
He came 'round my way.

I wait in the dining room as he dresses and sings, not wanting to disturb. His lovely, clear voice. Singing to himself, quiet, in a way that seems to tell me he's actively enjoying the simplicity of the song.

I always used to fancy then
He'd be one of the god-like kind of men
With a giant brain and a noble head
Like the heroes bold
In the books I've read.

It occurs to me after listening for some time that this isn't the kind of song most husbands of women sing.

Odd, I guess, that I never find it odd: the love songs he sings about men, the dresses he paints himself in, the blog posts he constructs of paintings and old pictures of sexy male figures.

Odd, I guess, that our normal is something I don't find at all odd anymore.

Nicholas stares at me to tell me he wants me to pet him, so I do.

Oh, I can't explain,
It's surely not his brain
That makes me thrill -
I love him because he's - I don't know...
Because he's just my Bill.

Stephen steps out of the den to find me sitting cross-legged on the floor, with Nicholas, a surprise audience. Noticing me, he jumps and punctuates the end of the song with the bang of his feet on the dining room floor.

He laughs. I laugh.

He leaves for work.