I Love My Husband, But...

You might say that true love doesn't have a "but". I'd like to argue that point.

"I love you, but you're DRING ME CRAZY!!"

My husband, Shawn is not a dumb man. He's really very smart. He's a whiz at math and I've seen him build actual motorcycles from nothing more than scraps of metal from the ground up. So he's not stupid. I know this. I've had this proven to me. So when he does things that make no sense to me, I think it must not be the man in him, but rather, the husband.

Shawn's mother did a lot of things for him when he was young. I am in no way blaming this wonderful woman, but it did me no good. For example, when I was young, my dad worked (still does) the night shift. Mom worked late and they were both usually exhausted. My sister and I learned to cook because if we didn't, we didn't eat. Ok, well, I learned to cook. My sister learned to use the mircowave! Ha ha

Shawn's mom, for the most part has always had dinner on the table by 6pm, regardless of her job or whatever was going on. She's very neat and likes things clean, even if those around her don't. You can scream at someone for 2 weeks to clean up his room, but eventually the smell gets to you so you do it yourself.

I'm like that too, unfortunatly. I've never screamed at Shawn to clean up something, it's just understood that I, the Wife do it because I am the Wife. Besides, Shawn doesn't know where anything goes anyway. I sometimes wonder if that's a big 'ol cop out.

We've lived in this house for 3 years and the scissors have kept in the same drawer for 3 years. He'll rumage around and call out, "Baby, where's the scissors?" Rita Rudner had a great comment about this strange occurance in the Husband.

"It's behind the milk." I'll paraphrase since it's been years since I saw the Rudner special on TV. She stated that her husband would stare blankly into the fridge and not see what he what looking for. Why? Because the Husband doesn't move things. He expects the object to jump out in front of him and go, "Here I am!" So when he asks, "Where's the bread?" you should always replay, "It's behing the milk." Therefore, he get it into his head that he should move the milk and discover that the item will not in fact leap out in front of his face.

This is a theory proven time and time again by many highly paid scientists hard at work trying to firgure out the Husband configuration. The Husband is a highly complex creature. He has devolved once having taken the sacred vows. He was once a smart man who could take care of himself with the utmost efficiency. However, upon marriage, the Husband's brain rearanges things to create more work for the Wife.

Case in point: While my husband is not a stupid man, I have concluded that he doesn't kow how to figure out how the toilet paper roll works. I've seen him cut sheetrock to precision and patch holes in our ceiling. I've seen him figure out the innerworkings of a small motor on his own. I've even seen him rip up his mother's sinking bathroom floor and repair everything underneath and on top of it.

So why, I have to ask, can he not figure out the toilet paper roll? He leaves the empty cardboard tube on the roller and uses the stack of toilet paper from the back of the toilet. Never, not once, have I seen the manifestations of his skill and knowledge put to use by placing a new roll of toilet paper on the roller.

I once asked him if he really knew how to do it. It is, afterall a simply mechanism. But this is the varying consequences of becoming a Husband. It turns a section of the mind into pure mush and goo. It turns off the part of the brain that tells you to place your clothes into the hamper, rather than the floor, 2 mere inches away from the hamper. It turns off the part of the brain that tells you to place a dirty dish into the sink, rather than on the counter, a mere 2 inches away from it.

But it's really not his fault. I know this. And it's not my fault that I nit-pick because once you become a Wife, your brain changes too. The brain will wear down and become slow. Instead of telling the wearer of the dirty clothes to pick them up, you just do it because it's easier. Instead of telling the husband that bowls go in that cupboard, you shoo him out of the kitchen because it's just easier to do it yourself rather than take the time to explain it over and over again.

Shawn's mother once told me that his dad put away dishes once. Once. And there's a reason for that. After he'd put away the dishes she couldn't find anything and it took her years to configure her kitchen to the way it was. Shawn and I have done this. He helped me to put away groceries once. Once. I spent the next several days exasperated saying, "I know I bought beans! I saw them in the bag!!"

So what is the secret to having a happy marriage? Keeping your mouth shut. He doesn't scream at me for using his precious tools and I don't scream at him for leaving dirty socks 2 inches from the hamper. But the real secret of our happy marriage is one fact:
Shawn's not allowed in the kitchen anymore. Well, I have to be honest and say that he is allowed within 2 inches of the kitchen.