I’m quirky. I know this. I have “processes”, I call them; simple routines in my day that I feel compelled to do, often in a certain order. When I was first married, my processes came up against an INTP and he did everything possible to rearrange, block and put to an end some of my perceived necessary processes. And, yes, over time I have trimmed them like an overgrown hedge. Marriage is good for that.
But I hold on to some of my quirks and processes and call them good.
For instance, long ago I bought some lovely cotton sheets that have the kind of fitted pillow case that folds in at the end so there is no pillow exposed. Nice and neat and tucked in. And to make it even more precise and lovely, there are two sets of ties to cinch it.
Being an ESFJ, I like things done my way (because it is the correct and the only way) and I am very black and white in my thinking. This can be a wonderful thing (when it comes to administering chemotherapy) and it can be a curse (when it comes to whether or not the bell peppers are allowed to stay on the counter because the fridge is packed chock-full after hitting up three grocery stores [which they should not, by the way]).
Last night, as I was climbing into that glorious thing called a bed [isn't it great that God makes us lay down and sleep?], I went to straighten the sheets and blankets. This is another processes my INTP husband could do without. I swear I sleep poorly if my overlay sheet is askew. And then the light quilt we have on top must be laid the long way and not the short way. It must. Neurotic; maybe. I digress.
I straighten the sheet, then the quilt on the INTP’s side of the bed. I fluff his pillow and realize the aforementioned pillowcase is not properly tucked in, folded and tied. So I do that for him as well, as it should be.
I move to my side of the bed. Same sequence, same processes. I go to tuck, fold and tie the pillowcase and wouldn’t you know, someone has already done it for me.
That charming, carefree, fly by the seat of his pants, linger in the candlelight sort of guy has intentionally filled one of my processes because he knows me, he loves me. Ah, my heart was twitterpated and I felt known.
[I won't mention that he failed to match the cute floral pillow cases with the sheets that go with them, but rather put on bubble gum pink pajama cotton sheets instead. An ESFJ can't have it all, unless that is, she is bedfellows with another ESFJ and that could be really, really bad news.]
I love my husband and love how he serves me in these little ways.
And, thanks, husband for letting me rip off the sheets and quilts on cold winter nights when you are already tucked in so I can have them just so…to aid my sleep, of course.