It's baseball season ... I love hearing about those players who have worn, molded, folded their cherished gloves. Gloves they have used since they played Little League, gloves they don't let out of their sight, gloves they risk serious bodily injury to keep. Case in point, Mike Gallego went back into San Francisco's Candlestick Park to rescue his glove when the earthquake hit in 1989:
The power went out, there's complete havoc, and people are yelling, "Get out! Get out!" ... I get halfway out there ... and I realized, "Oh, my God, my glove!" So I turn around and go against traffic back to the clubhouse, to the other side of the room. It's pitch black. At that moment, I didn't even think; instincts just took over. I grabbed the glove and made my way back outside.
Yeah, all for a glove. I get it. It's for their livelihood, it carries with it memories, and many believe those gloves are lucky. Sigh. My husband is obsessed with something, too.
In January, my husband got an iPad. He had been coveting his friends' iPads for months. He would see one at a restaurant, on the subway, in the movie theater, and start to drool, stare longingly at it, to the point that the iPad owner would become uncomfortable. Now, he has one ... and he loves it. I mean, L-O-V-E-S it. I ask to use it and he has to think about it, that kind of love. Kiddo knows to stay a good two feet away from it at all times.
And I do believe he has named it.
Some guys have an old car. Some have a recliner. Others may have a golf club. Of course, the love for these objects is second to that of the people in their lives ... but it's a close second, I bet. And sometimes, those wives may wonder exactly how the ranking goes on any particular day.
Does your husband have an object he loves is obsessed with?
Image via ShutterBugChef/Flickr