A Domestic Insurgent

Every woman in my life is smarter than me. Every single one. Now let me qualify what I mean by smarter. The amount of stuff that they can juggle is mind-boggling. Most of these women are mothers and like my wife, can keep track of so much shit that I go cross-eyed trying to keep up. My wife for instance, she juggles the kids, teaching 5 sections of English per day, and a husband who some might call challenged. She handles all this with so much grace I wonder how she does it. It's no wonder she falls asleep like a narcoleptic at a Yanni concert. She's busy. I try to help. I lift the heavy things when I'm supposed to, reach the top shelf in the kitchen as my wife is shortish, I do what I can.

You know what I do best of all? I get in the way. I'm a complete nuisance to my wife when she is trying to accomplish anything. If there is a drawer that has something she needs, I'm standing in front of it. Sometimes when there is a bill that she needs to pay, I casually throw it away thinking that anything from a bank must be junk mail. When she's trying to get the kids to eat a healthy meal, I saunter out with a Little Debbie confection that immediately turns the kids attention from green beans to Swiss cake rolls. I'm like living with a roommate who's smoked to much grass. I don't really contribute anything, and the hope is that I won't eat everything including the veneer off the cupboard doors. Why does she tolerate such a pain in the ass being around? Frankly, it's due to me being dashingly handsome with huge money making potential. Seriously, I'm like The Bachelor with an old flannel shirt, house shoes, and gas that occasionally smells like the cat-house at the zoo. That's right. I'm what you'd call a major catch.

The bane of my home existence is ice-cube trays. If my life depended on it, I will not refill an ice cube tray. I don't even think about it. I take what I need, and if it's the last one I'll look at it as if I'm supposed to due something, dismiss it, and put it right back in the freezer. My hope is that it will magically refill itself. It never does and what we end up with is people over to the house, and there is no ice at all. Just 4 really cold empty ice cube trays staring up at me. What is my deal? It's not an overwhelming amount of work to refill and ice-cube tray. I just can't do it. It also gives my wife and I the chance to discuss this particular shortcoming of mine with some frequency. You know, bonding. So until I get help for my 'problem' we'll just have to wait for one of them fancy refrigerators that makes the ice for you. Not that this will take away from any of the ice- cube making effort that I'm currently not doing. But it will probably be shiny, which is always a plus.

My ass has an alarm on it. Most husbands will admit secretly to having one too. This alarm is triggered when we think about sitting down. It's not as loud as a fire alarm, but what's important here is that only one person can hear it. My wife. When she hears this alarm, and senses that I want to sit, she knows that it's time to ask for something. She works hard, I know this. She deserves all the pampering I can give. I just wish that she would ask for these things BEFORE I'm in the motion of sitting. I'm going to blow a disc or something doing this. I'm not churning out the crunches like I used to you know (as if I've ever). I'm up going for a smoke, getting something truly unhealthy to eat, or just picking up after the kids, why not ask me then? Let me repeat, I'M UP. No, the alarm insures that I will be mere seconds from comfort when I'm asked to change a diaper, get another juicy, or go rotate the tires on the minivan. Curse my ass alarm, I will have no peace as long as it's working. I've tried to disable it, but that gets me in more trouble that you can imagine. Are there worst things in life? Sure. I'm just saying that if I end up in traction that you will know it due to being asked to clean the garage in mid-sit.

I suppose the trick is for me to do as little damage as possible at home. My wife continues to juggle the universe and I sit in a chair and watch with amazement. Someday all of you may be able to come over someday and see this arena for yourselves. This is sure to be an evening of good converation and drink. Please don't ask for ice...