39 Years I Think

Just in case you care my wife and I celebrate our anniversary this week. A whopping 39 years, I think, of married bliss, or so I have been told. Okay, celebrating is somewhat overstated. How do you really celebrate when the world is in lockdown? Perhaps I am overcomplicating it. I suppose a celebration could actually involve agreeing on a TV show we both want to watch. There really is nothing left to be said as at this point whatever hasn’t been said probably is best left unsaid.

Here is our conversation from last night.

She: What are you doing tomorrow?

Me: Same as today.

She: What was that?

Me: The same as I did yesterday.

She: Doesn’t sound like you are doing much.

Me: I have never worked so hard and not done anything.

 I sometimes tease my wife that for the last I think 39 years, she has tried to get me to change but now complains I am not the man she married.

Over the years, 39 I think, there were certain things I refused to do. For example. I could not handle the idea of making our bed. Aside from the fact that I wasn’t very good at it, it seems quite redundant. Really. You get up in the morning, you leave the bedroom, and don’t return till the evening when you just jump back in. So why bother. Because someone might see an unmade bed? First of all, why is anyone looking into my bedroom? Secondly, close the door. Way simpler than making the bed.

Long story short, almost 4 years ago I started making our bed because of something I read that suggested doing something like that first thing in the morning provided a feeling of encouragement of having accomplished something. It is kind of interesting how that turned out. I found out it only takes a minute. It really does make me feel better. And not only that, I now find it rather disturbing to see an unmade bed. Who would have thought that at my age that could happen?

The downside to that was that my wife seemed to think that was impetus enough for her to push other changes. Ever since we got married, 39 years ago I think, I have been quite adamant that should I ever see a “honey do” list there would be some significant ramifications. I mean seriously. I have threatened to walk out should that happen.

I really thought my wife understood this. Unfortunately, I have found out different. Perhaps I never should have started making the bed. I really think that is to blame for the dilemma I faced this summer. As much as making the bed made me feel better it has now apparently opened the door for more. Really, is one significant change not enough for a while? I thought we had a system that protected me from the dreaded “honey do” list.

My wife is organized, to say the least. She makes lists for herself. I would not be at all surprised if in her binder, yes, she has a binder, there would already be a list for some gathering that may or may not happen some time in 2021. Seriously, she is quite anal about that.

I have noticed lately that her binder is open to her most recent “to do” page and placed in a prevalent place on our kitchen counter. And, on occasion, I will glance at it, making sure she doesn’t see that, and actually do some of the tasks she has listed and then go back and stroke it out. Or I may add something to her list that I have already done and stroke it out just so she knows I do things around here, hoping she doesn’t take me for granted. Perhaps that is what led to my fall from grace.

Back to this summer. One morning I received an email that came close to changing my life forever. Not only that, it came just as I was teeing off on the 14th hole. Really. Don’t you think that is rather inconsiderate? That is a rhetorical question. Normally an email from her that early is a cheerful “good morning” or a quiet “you up yet”. But not that day.

She sent me a list of things that needed to get done around the house. A “honey do” list. Quite literally it was paralyzing. I literally couldn’t do anything. Wasn’t even sure how I could carry on. I was thinking about packing my suitcase and hitting the road. Then I saw the last item on her list. She suggested I should have a nap. That saved the day. She called my bluff and I blinked. And to think, all because I started making the bed.

So yes. We have been married for 39 years, I think. But then again who is counting. So because I can’t buy flowers and we can’t go out for dinner and we are socially distancing I will use this forum to wish her a happy anniversary. And to anyone who will wish us another 39 years, please don’t. Make it a good one.


Previous
Previous

Don’t Be So Hard On Yourself

Next
Next

Adding to the Noise