Clueless Wives: The Interview

Category: Families & Generations

My wife says she’s about to leave to go to work.  She waits by the kitchen entrance, while I’m in my office.  I say, “Okay have a great day.”  She waits some more until I finally get it and lift myself up from my comfortable chair, where I was working on my computer (she doesn’t consider that “work”) and I give her a kiss goodbye.

While I’m already up and totally disturbed, I go around and turn off ALL the lights she left on in our bedroom and bathroom.  When I ask why she leaves them on, I get back, “I’m not done yet.”  Hmmm, is the idea that they’re on 10 hours later when she gets back home?  I know, I’m just a guy, so obviously I’m just lame.

But, it got me to thinking more about our gender differences; after all, I did marry her.  So, I thought I’d actually do some journalistic investigation and find out more about these mysteries I just “don’t get!”  Maybe I can finally begin to understand, “What the heck is SHE thinking?” And so I proceed to a clueless wives interview…

Me:  “So, Honey, why do you leave the garage door open whenever you leave the house?”

Honey:  “I don’t ever leave it open!”

Me:  “Okay, it must have been my imagination, Sweetie.  Then, why do you sometimes (I’m not allowed to say “always”) leave the lights on all over the house?”

Sweetie:  “I don’t ever leave the lights on!”

Me:  “Of course, I must be mistaken, Darling.  May I inquire why you like the air conditioning on with all the windows open?”

Darling:  “I never do that either.  You have no idea how busy I am, how much I do around the house, how hard it is dealing with YOUR KIDS, and the stress I’m under!”

Me:  “I know, I know, Darling.  The fact that I pay for everything, work as many hours as you do, work tirelessly on my new business, and do the majority of the kid-care, and the walking of our 3 dogs, is really worthless.  Forgive me, Scrumpchkins.  So, tell me, did you see the doctor today about those hot flashes that continue to plague you?”

Scrumpchkins:  “Do you think I have the time to see the doctor?  I had to get my hair colored today, return the calls of several clients, and the traffic to and from work was a nightmare.”

Me:  “I’m so sorry, MushPoo; it sounds as if you had a horrible time.  And, that traffic must really be rough.”

MushPoo:  “You have no idea.  And, then this light went on my car and I made an appointment to have it fixed.”

Me:  “You mean the light that says you’re almost out of gas, SweetiePie?”

SweetiePie:  “Whatever, the car needs a wash anyway.”

Me:  “Well, I gotta pick up son #1 from his sleepover, and take son #2 to his guitar lesson.  Need me to pick up anything for you, SweetiePie?”

SweetiePie:  “Yes. Oh, pick up the take-out order from Mama’s Italian for us, on your way home, for our dinner?”

Me:  “Of course.”

Two hours later, as I’m nearing home, both boys in tow, the hot food for our dinner next to me, I get the following text, “Pick up a bottle of Chardonnay, too.”  I turn the car around, and get the wine.  Boy, she has it tough.  Later that night, I continue the interview:

Me:  “Hey, HotStuff, I was thinking about what you said earlier, about the horrible commute into town you do.  Have you ever thought about trying to get a transfer closer to home, given that you work for a franchise that is nearly everywhere?”

HotStuff:  “Don’t be silly.  I like the people at this location.  Besides, it would be impossible to start over out here.  You don’t understand anything.”

Me:  “Yeah, I guess so.  But, really, dearest, there’s got to be something the doctor can do about those hot flashes.  Having the AC on and off all night, piling on and off the blankets, makes our sleep sort of restless you know?”

Dearest:  “I know you don’t understand how hard it is being a woman and that our plumbing may be just a little bit different than yours, but when I find the time to see the doctor, I’ll ask him again.  I’ve tried everything already and that’s just the way it is.  You couldn’t possibly understand…MEN!”

And, with that, I turn on the overhead ceiling fan, turnedown the AC, put half the covers on me and remove the other half from her, roll over, and think to myself, “Wow, she really has it so hard…I’m one lucky guy!”