My husband needs a better wife. I’ve decided. We’ll be accepting resumés.
The other day we were watching The Waltons. (This is not my fault. He wanted to get The Waltons from Netflix but I hadn’t seen it. We are on season 7 or so.) It was an episode when Ben gets married and thinks that being the man of the house means ordering his wife around. He is standing outside their room yelling at her. I happened to glance over at the husband and to mention that that approach may not work on me.
He said that he had figured that out. He said that he couldn’t yell at me anyway. Then he decided to try. He sort of half-heartedly yelled something at me. He didn’t even get much volume. He only scored about 5 out of 10 on tone.
I found it mildly amusing but all hell broke lose.
Freckles was resting between us. She spun towards him in a panic and glared at him. Why was he yelling at Mommy?
Powder was walking by and froze. She gave him a look of complete disdain that only a female cat can.
Jules started screaming. She’s never been a big fan of his. No matter how many grapes he gives her she’s always been pretty sure that deep down he’s up to no good and this confirmed it.
He had to spend some time mending fences after that. He needs a new wife that does not come complete with a herd of animals who aren’t going to stand for any nonsense.
Later, I was reading a blog by a young woman who was discussing having a good attitude when helping out at home. After all the purpose of learning to keep a house is to be ready to make a good home for your husband. If your mother asks you to make sandwiches it is practice for serving your husband. You wouldn’t say no if your husband asked you to make him a sandwich, would you?
My first thought was, “I’d ask him if his arm was broken.”
I mean, if I was making sandwiches I’d make him one. If he was doing something and I thought he needed nourishment I might offer a sandwich. But if we were both sitting around and he said, “Woman, go make me a sandwich” I don’t see that conversation ending with him having a nice ham and cheese.
Obviously he needs a better wife. I told him this and offered to get him in contact with several of the young ladies who write blogs like these since they are prepared to be doting mates. He forbid me – again – from reading these blogs since they addle my brain. I’m ignoring his orders since, as we’ve established, I’m a pretty unobedient woman.