Let’s Put It In Context
Okay, I confessed to a few tiny little imperfections in my wifely role (“Bad Wife“).
Which reminds me of the only joke my very serious mother-in-law ever told me:
Several months into a very happy honeymoon, one morning the husband says to his wife,
“Honey, I love you so much. But now that we have been married for a little while, could I share with you a couple of your little faults?”
“No, Dear,” the wife answers. “Because if it wasn’t for those little faults, I would have been able to get a much better husband.”
Back to the subject:
Over these last several months, I’ve written quite a few times about my sweet husband. And everyone just loves him.
“What a great guy!” “He’s a keeper!” “You’re so lucky!”
Lest you start to believe that my husband is perfect, and your husband is …..well…unfortunate; let me tell you three little incidents from just this week.
He’s dieting. And he’s trying really hard – to very good results, I might add.
And two days ago, I come home from work and start dinner. As I am preparing a meal to fit his diet – hamburg patties, mashed sweet potatoes, and zucchini, he tells me that his diet is difficult.
“It’s a pain in the ass,” he says, “making meals on this diet plan.”
“So what did you make for lunch?” I say as I mash the potatoes,and saute the zucchini, and turn the burgers.
“A sandwich,” he answers.
I had a big meeting at work this week.
I put in a lot of hours preparing for it. And it went extremely well. I came home pumped.
“How’d it go?” he asked.
So I started to tell him all about it.
Halfway through my story, he interrupted with a little “um- mmm” of understanding.
Only it wasn’t quite that. It was a snore.
We had a terrible thunderstorm Friday afternoon. We lost power about 5:00PM.
We live out in the country, and my talented husband installed a generator. It’s a huge generator, and so lots of our necessities (like toilets) keep going even in an outage. But we have a big house and lots of ‘stuff’, so not everything runs.
Power was still out Saturday morning.
Our stovetop is propane anyway, so I made some poached eggs. My husband salted his eggs, but not much salt came out of the shaker.
“This is a little clogged,” he remarked.
I said, “Yeah, it’s probably because it’s hot and humid in here with no air conditioning.”
“No air-conditioning?” he howled. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Now don’t you feel a lot better about your husband?