“Yep,” her hubby replied. “Breakfast.”
I’ll have to admit there are a few sorry husbands like this one across the land. Which makes it even more difficult to understand why we thoughtful and considerate ones are often not appreciated by our spouses (spice?). For example, I suspect that What’s Her Name at times doesn’t really appreciate what a wonderful husband she has. One who is forbearing and kind, and is never critical of her idiosyncrasies. For example:
EVEN THOUGH WHN TYPIFIES THE “It’s a woman’s privilege to change her mind,” adage, I am very patient with her. For example: I occasionally wear suspenders. They’re a lot of trouble but better than wearing your trousers around your ankles. WHN is my fashion consultant (Prior to wedded bliss, when I was a widower, my fashion consultant was Dmitri Sloponavich, a native of Lower Slobbovia, affectionately known Sloppy the Slob ).
She has difficulty in making decisions, without first slowly contemplating them. I therefore own just two pair of suspenders from which she has to choose.
RECENTLY I HAD OCCASION to consult her as to which pair would go better with the pants I was wearing. And, of course, the ones she chose were not the ones already attached to the pants. So ... obedient and thoughtful husband that I am, even though I was running late, I took off my shoes so I could remove my trousers, so I could unhook the suspenders. Then attach the other pair and reverse the whole time consuming procedure.
“I don’t know,” said my fashion coordinator when she reentered the bedroom and checked my attire. “Now that I think of it, I believe maybe the other suspenders would have done just as well.” But did I fuss, using a few justifiable vituperative curse words? Of course not! (As far as I can remember.)
COMEDIAN ALAN KING WAS ANOTHER husband who told deprecating tales about his wife, that we sweet husbands found deplorable. For example:
“You don’t love me any more,” sobbed his wife. “I’m nothing but a cook and a maid around here.”
“Not true!” replied King. “If you were, I’d have fired you a long time ago!”
“Momma told me I shouldn’t marry you!” she tearfully continued.
“That’s the only thing your mother and I ever agreed on!”
I WAS ALSO UNCOMPLAINING when I found a further example of WHN’s unfortunate tendency to never throw anything away. I discovered among her mementos a birthday postcard her granddaughter had received from her dentist some 20 years ago. Most of her drawers and chests being jam packed with such ancient trivia, reminds me of the story about the lady who was forced by her family to consult a psychiatrist.
“The reason they want me to see you,” she told the psychiatrist, “is just because I like pancakes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. I like pancakes myself,” replied the doctor.
“Oh, good!” said the lady. “You must come visit me. I have four trunks full of them.”
I was pleased, excited, and most of all surprised recently when I discovered WHN had actually cleaned out and organized one of her bathroom drawers. I was so proud of her. Until I discovered she had accomplished this feat by dumping most of what had been in her drawer, into my drawer. But again I’m sure I didn’t fuss, and sweetly thanked her for her “donation.”
I FIND THAT OTHER CONSIDERATE HUSBANDS are likewise not appreciated. One of them wrote this letter to the editor:
When I took early retirement last year, it became necessary for my wife to get a part time job, along with her full time job, for the extra income and health insurance we needed. Shortly thereafter I noticed she was beginning to show her age.
I normally get home from the golf course about the same time she gets home from work. Even though she knows how hungry I am, she almost always says she has to rest for a half hour before starting dinner. I thoughtfully tell her she can just take her time, and wake me when she gets dinner on the table.When doing simple jobs, she seems to think she needs more rest periods. I am a fair man, and urge her to take a break when she is only half finished with mowing the lawn. Also to fix herself a cold glass of lemonade. And as long as she is making one for herself, she may as well make one for me too, and bring it to me in my lounge chair in the shade.
Nobody knows better than I how frustrating women get as they get older. Even so, I urge you to use tact and patience, and less criticism, as have I. Although my wife doesn’t seem to appreciate it, it does give me the self satisfaction of knowing I am being a good husband.
Signed,
Bob
Editor’s Note: Bob died suddenly on August 3. The police report says that he was found with a Callaway golf club rammed up his butt, with only two inches of grip showing. His wife was arrested and charged with murder. However the all woman jury found her not guilty, and accepted her defense that what had happened was that he had accidentally sat down on the golf club.
Jack Runninger of Rome is a retired optometrist and state and national awardwinning humor columnist. His most recent book, “Funny Female Foibles,” is available now. Readers may contact him at runningerj@comcast.net.
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