Little Pieces

It's amazing how many little pieces there are in a life, in the relationships that build a life. Me and Joe are missing four. Pieces. Our set of alphabet refrigerator magnets no longer has a C, an H, a Q, or a W/M. The C and the H, maybe even the W/M,  got lost when the fridge was saying MERRY CHRISTMAS and then got knocked into, and the letters fell off and, like, fell down a floor vent or got carried away by mice. Losing the C wasn't that big of a deal, 'cause we still have a K, and losing W/M wasn't that big of a deal, because we still have another W/M. It's inconvenient sometimes - like the other day when I was making a fridge collage of paperwork related to a tour of China I want to go on; I tried to hold the papers up with the letters for "CHINA" but it said "INA" instead - but really, there's no need to replace the set. Besides, it's been on every fridge we've rented ever since we got married.

I'm not very creative with the magnets, really. I don't mess with them much beyond "JOE ROX," arranged with "ROX" under the "JOE" so they can share the O, or "I LOVE U," stuff like that. Joe's arrangements are more interesting, because they try to use as many letters as possible rather than trying to make sense. Every once in a while, I'll be cooking or cleaning, and he'll just walk up and start moving letters around, and I'll smile at whatever I'm doing, and he'll come up with something like this:

"DUSTE LOGZ." It gets me every time I look at it. My favorite part is how the Y is up in the unused letters pile rather than in the place of the E. DUST-E LOGZ.

I know, it's not much. Just some magnets on my fridge, likely arranged in a state of restless boredom. Just a tiny piece of a normal life...but, still, a piece I never want to lose.