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Sparkle (1)
Recently I "celebrated" 18 years of marriage. At a point when so few marriages seem to last for any significant amount of time, you may be hoping I can offer some insights into how I have managed this feat. I believe the key is thinking of husbands in terms of cars. You may wonder what brings about this unusual theory? Well, I have done intense research over these last 18 years, and by "intense research" I mean I have observed and heard my fellow wives' experiences, and I have found husbands all have similar factory defects. I think the secret to surviving marriage is in recognizing that all women discover these warps in their own husbands, no matter which style they selected.
And knowing this can be the difference between going quietly insane over time, and life in prison. While this may discourage some, I have found it liberating to know that I can do no better than the model I currently possess. It might help you understand if I point out a few examples of these common deficiencies.
Malfunctioning Audio System -- One day I am at my friend's house chatting in the kitchen. Her husband is sitting on the couch watching TV. My friend leaves the kitchen and goes to stand next to him. There she informs him of something that she needs him to do. He responds. First he nods his head; he even goes so far as to verbally reply to several parts of the apparent conversation. I am envious. I wish my model was this engaged. Often I speak to mine and he doesn't react. Then when I repeat myself he'll bark, "I heard you the first time!" Except, of course, when I don't repeat myself, he'll later come back and bark, "You never told me that!"
Anyway, my friend finishes this lively encounter and rejoins me in the kitchen where we continue to visit for a few minutes. Suddenly, her husband appears in the doorway looking confused.
"Were you talking to me?" he asks earnestly. My friend is dumbfounded.
"Who did you think I was talking to? I was standing right next to you!"
"I don't know," he says.
"But you answered me!" she says incredulously.
"Yeah," he replies, "I have no idea what you said."
He says this casually as though it is fairly common for him. I am not only delighted; I find it hard to hold in my laughter as the scene unfolds. Do I feel for her? Of course. But more importantly, I'm relieved. Her model is no better than mine. Sure, her model came with the ability to look like he was listening, but I'm not certain that feature was useful. At least with mine, I'm certain that no matter what I say, it won't be heard, including "I'm taking the credit card" and "I'll be out Friday night, so it's just you and the kids." My friend, on the other hand, has a model which leaves her in a constant state of uncertainty.
Busted On-Board Repair Kit -- Recently my friend's husband has suffered recurrent pain from an injury he sustained doing some physical labor in which she cannot recall him participating. This chronic pain is in his shoulder, which seems to randomly cause so much agony that a nap on the couch is the only remedy. His lawn has not been mowed for six weeks because it inflames the injury. Playing video games for countless hours back-to-back does not seem to have an adverse affect on this injury, nor do hours of computer use or the occasional golf game. However, the pain is so bad that often he will be found grinding the offending shoulder into a doorframe, with the belief that he can compress the spot into submission. She, of course, asks the same question I always ask my husband when he is suffering from one of those headaches that only five solid hours of uninterrupted World of Warcraft and a subsequent five hour nap can cure
"Did you take something for it?"
As women, we have come early in life to the knowledge that a good anti-inflammatory can cure ungodly, excruciating pain. Never in my life has non-stop Mario Brothers relieved an agonizing case of cramps, an anemic headache, or the ache in my hips from excess water retention. But a little pill or two can do wonders. Maybe
