Thursday, September 01, 2011
Marriage 301, Lecture 681: You do it better
This is how things work at our house.
For months, SH complains that he never gets to be alone in the house. That he travels for work and I get to stay at home and lounge around and watch movies and not do anything more arduous than pour a bowl of on-sale Kashi for supper (because you need your big meal in the morning before you have a full day, not at night before you go to bed is why) and then go to bed early, which is my holy grail and the main thing I miss from my unmarried days. That I never leave and let him lounge around in peace.
So I said Fine I'll go.
Actually, the way it happened was that our trip to the cottage on Madeline Island this year had to be cancelled because of sad reasons. Although we are reluctant to assign such a nickname, it looks like we should call the cottage "The Cottage of Death and Destruction." But let's hope that the bad luck has run out. SH and I have taken the bold step of making a tentative reservation already for next year because we are going No Matter What.
But even though we didn't go to the cottage, I still wanted to see my family up in northern Wisconsin. The timing for that worked out to this week - up on Monday, back on Tuesday. Which I do not recommend: 253 miles on Monday and then 253 back on Tuesday is a bit tiring.
And yes I am whining despite the fact that my pioneer ancestors made the trip over a hundred years ago in a covered wagon or just a plain wagon who knows? on trails. There wasn't even a highway back then. Not that there is much of one now, Appleton. How long have you been doing construction on that road? And would it kill you to tell me when to exit for 10 west? All those signs for 10 east, but no way to get to 10 west. Is this a plot to keep me from going to Medford?
I told SH I would be gone for two days and that's when he started to complain that I was abandoning him and who would make his lunch?
Yes. He wanted to know who would make his lunch.
Well, not those words but that was definitely the sentiment. As in, as I was getting ready to leave on Monday, packing the Usinger's sausage I was taking in trade for the very best bratwurst in the world, filling my water bottles, checking the charge on my phone (not that I can get a T-Mobile signal once I am more than three blocks from my house and no, we will not be renewing that contract), and making sure I had a toothbrush, he had this to say:
Would you cut up a tomato for me before you leave? And a peach?
Because it is my responsibility to make sure he eats produce. If I don't cut up his fruit, then how can he eat it?
I looked at him with the Death Glare and asked, How old are you? How long did you live on your own before we got married?
But you do it better, he answered.
Which reminds me of my favorite "You Do It Better" story. (NB I only do it better when SH does not feel like doing it. Otherwise, I am Not Doing It Right.)
My jazzercise instructor told this story. Her husband came home. Michelle was doing something - not a lot of rest for someone with an infant and a toddler. "The baby's diaper has leaked poop onto the floor," he announced.
Michelle said, "So clean it up."
Her husband answered, "But you do it better!"
Because there is a special touch to poop cleaning and tomato slicing that only a woman brings.
When I returned Tuesday evening, SH told me that he had actually sliced his own tomato that day.
I knew I could leave him unattended.