Sometimes I catch myself playing "officer's wife." For some reason, I have this romantic idea in my head of how such a woman should behave, and that idea generally revolves around the 1950's. I would just love to sit in the officer's club with other wives, each wearing our pearls and luncheon suits, sipping hot tea, and sharing the latest news. Just the sound of "officer's wife" invokes a kind of society-life to my ears.
While this glamorous fantasy is usually in my head, I do sometimes dabble in my fantasy. I love entertaining and having "the wives" over. The only tea usually involved is iced tea, which is usually gulped down, instead of sipped, due to the heat of Florida. And I almost always don some kind of pearls when I go to the commissary, though they are usually paired with jeans instead of pastel-colored suits. I guess it's just my tribute to the hat-and-glove military wives. Plus, it's just fun!
However, some days, like today, something happens that smacks me back to the reality of the military life that I am living. I was out for my morning run through the neighborhood when I came across two unexpected visitors in the not-just-yet developed subdivision. They startled me at first, then I bust out laughing. Two chickens were watching me from the side of the road. I passed them 4 times, each time laughing just as loudly as the first. While running, I was mentally putting together my outfit and which pearls would best complement it. The chickens brought me back to the stark reality that I do not live a glamorous lifestyle. I live in the county, right around the corner from the blue trailer park...and apparently a farm. Pearls aren't really necessary.
I've always felt that God deals with me with a sense of humor. I, the control freak, was destined to marry a Marine, whose job will never let us have control over our lives. And sometimes when I might feel a little high and mighty, God sends two chickens to bring me back to reality.