My artist wife walked into my basement office and noticed my baseball caps hanging on the wall.
Immediately, a look climbed across her face. It was one of those unmistakable looks that only a husband notices.
I no-sold noticing.
Meanwhile, her eyes continued to slide their way along the width of the entire wall in my office, which was adorned by a new, white baseball cap rack running the entire length of the soft blue paint. Her eyes finally came to rest on me sitting at my desk.
“What’s that?” she asked, directing a glance toward my new ballcap rack.
“Um, what’s what?” I asked, knowing full well what “what” was while trying to buy time to craft a witty quip.
It never came. Sadly.
But my ballcaps sure did look good hanging up on that wall.
You see, I love baseball. I love watching it. I love playing it. I love coaching it. World Series time is always a great time in our house (and would be made better if my beloved Blue Jays would ever make it back).
With this love comes a colorful collection of ballcaps.
After years of sorting through a ball cap pile, I wanted to be able to access them easier. I wanted to be able to quickly grab the one that best matched my shirt and ball socks for that particular practice.
As a result, one week earlier, I had completed a small project to correct this pile of injustice I was serving to my poor ball caps.
I built them a custom cap rack designed to fit perfectly on the longest wall in my office directly opposite the mini-bat rack that proudly boasts holds a miniature bat from every Major League Baseball stadium I’ve been to.
So, there she stood, having finished her inspection of this newest contraption built by her husband.
But, that look.
“I love that you put them in order,” she said, the look turning into a knowing smile.
I, for a brief moment no sold her comment again, before a sheepish grin crossed my face.
We both looked at the cap rack. There, looking right back at us was Roy G Biv — all the colours of the rainbow, in order.
As a finishing touch, and as a bit of a test of my artist wife, I had hung the caps in color order.
Sure enough, she passed the test.
The first thing she noticed upon seeing the rack for the first time wasn’t the ingenious way I’d fastened it to the wall, the cheap hooks I’d used, nor the mediocre spray paint job.
Instead, the first thing she noticed was the ballcap rainbow.
Of course, I didn’t tell her I had to look up the color order. That’s a story for another day.
When you’re married to an artist, it’s these little things — like coordinating your baseball caps to the rainbow — that matter and say, “I love you!”
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