Just about once per lunar orbit, I have a full-blown spousal meltdown over whether or not I am a good wife. For starters, I don’t cook. Can’t even touch raw meat with the exception of sushi without rubber gloves on both hands. I note that my friends are always tallying up their coupon savings from the grocery list that is arranged by the meals that they plan to cook for their families during the upcoming week. Say what? So to pull my weight, I joined the Occupy Monsanto Facebook page to try and help eradicate genetically modified foods from the grocery shelves. That’s an active and culinary wife, right? In my defense, I do get excited about saving on my gas card or the clearance shelf with the latest craft craze at Hobby Lobby. So I can be frugal when I focus. Thing is, I am not a terrible cook. Clueless, yes, but not totally incompetent. My husband loves all things culinary so we are good that way. He cooks. I clean up. We split the grocery shopping duties. Scoreboard tied there. But what about the rest?
Here are the other things that I associate with being a good wife because society has gone and socialized me to believe it is imperative for avoiding divorce and/or a Craigslist advertisement for a sister wife.
Things I Do:
- Clean underwear is always available in everyone’s chest-of-drawers.
- My own undergarments actually match one day per week.
- I NOT ONLY refrain from griping when the Stanley Cup finals are on but even concede to get the kids out of the house during the final period.
- I hold the whole family accountable for thank-you notes being written in a timely fashion.
- I never ask my husband to buy feminine products or US Weekly (unless I have a temperature above 103 and am bedridden).
- I maintain an overly healthy phobia of lice and forbid friendships that might entail the passing of such so as to avoid a mandatory evacuation of the home during a Superbowl or March Madness.
- I make physical comparisons between well-known media figures and my husband. “Are you sure that you and Daniel Tosh weren’t separated at birth?”
- Throw away undershirts whose armpits are stained yellow…sometimes turning them into dust cloths.
- I make morning coffee in the Keurig now that it requires a lever pull and one button push.
- Keep him abreast of men’s fashion in a non-forceful way (check out this camel blazer).
- Encourage him to demand his worth professionally (Now, when was your last raise?)….not recommended in this economy.
- Excuse him from ogling the Elle Macpherson lookalike because I am probably ogling Tim Tebow too.
- Praise him for saying Fergie is gross during the half-time show.
Things I Do When It Is Convenient:
- Pick up the drycleaning when they call to remind me that it is about to be sent to Goodwill.
- Endure the hell-hath-no-fury like a bikini wax if we are going on our annual Couple’s Trip.
- Buy him those Superman themed briefs for his half marathon at Target even though the boy or girl at the checkout counter will suppress a laugh while scanning them.
- Refrain from throwing plates when I burn a birthday cake.
- Listen to his playlist despite the fact that the rap is highly profane and is corrupting our children.
- Tell him to go play his colleagues in a game of golf so that he can beat every one of them. It makes him feel good for at least two weeks.
- Ignore the stench of running clothes and stale sweat in the laundry room because he ignores the fact that I have not washed them yet.
- Refrain from hiding the remote or flushing it down the toilet.
Things I Do Not Do (And am not sure that I really should….):
- Spoonfeed him Jell-O when he is sick.
- Wait for him to pull out my chair at the dinner table.
- Compare him to others (they would suffer).
- Check his internet history.
- Interfere when he is trying to save the beta fish whose 9 lives long ago expired.
- Leave a honey-do list more than once per lunar orbit…I sit on my hands and the post-it notes to make good on this one. It is not a walk in the park.
I guess what I am learning as I make this list is that being a good wife, like being a good anything, starts with being a good person. So, exhale, maybe I’m not so bad after all.