this might be marriage.

i packed my gym bag, took it downstairs, set it by the bathroom, and then i climbed the stairs and went to bed.

just before achieving sleep, i realized i hadn't put a bra in my gym bag.
i muttered something to the effect of "goddammit" into my pillow.
wondered briefly if i would remember to get it in the morning.
recalled all the times i did not. (nor my underpants, nor socks, nor shoes).

i got up.
fished a bra out of the drawer.
thought about all the time and energy it would take to walk all the way down the stairs, put it in my bag, and then walk all the way back up.
so, i threw it down the stairs
and went back to bed.

i lay in bed thinking about what a classy lady i am
and about what chris will do when he is on his way to bed and finds a bra sprawled across the bottom step.

then i realized this image would no longer faze him.
6 years ago, maybe he would have thought, "huh? what's this doing here?"
but now… he would think nothing of it.

chris will no more wonder why my bra is sprawled across the bottom step
than i wonder at the sight of his boxers on top of my piano.

this might be marriage.