Seth is still unpacking.
Let that sink in for a minute. We’ve lived in our house since the end of October.
Every once in a while he goes into the guest room and opens a box and brings out a few things and tells me a long story about the things, asks me if he should keep them in some cases, in other cases he just tells me he’s keeping them and yeah, it’s been a long process.
Living with someone who was born in 1901* ensures you’ll be faced with a lot of stuff, a lot of stories, and occasionally some awesome shit that you want to steal for yourself. It’s rad.
A few weeks ago he opened a box full of watches and me, being like a crow, spotted the ancient sparkly Seiko, and put it on my wrist. I have freakishly small wrists so I slid it all the way up my arm like an arm cuff, and fooled around for a while as I’m wont to do, when I decided I wanted to have it. So we did a little measuring and figured out how many links to remove and I forgot about it.
Then two nights ago I came home and it was sitting on the dining room table. I told him that if this was a some kind of misguided (and misread) Gift of the Magi situation and he sold my car to pay for the link removal in the watch, that I wanted my car back. He assured me the two had nothing to do with one another.
So, now I’m wearing the watch he wore when he was a teenager (back during the Roaring Twenties!**) and sometimes when I look down at the time, I think, “He was just a kid when he wore this watch. Now he’s in his seventies!***”
And it makes me feel like I’m somehow connected to that teenager in the pick-up truck who like girls in tight white jeans.****
And that he had no idea that there would be an insane girl like me wearing it all these years later. It’s like my version of wearing his letterman’s jacket.
*He wasn’t born in 1901.
**He didn’t go to high school in the Roaring Twenties.
***He isn’t in his seventies.
****He did drive a pick-up truck and lust after girls in tight white jeans.