Wherefore Art My Romeo?
Doug is a great husband. He's supportive, he's steady, dependable, loving, helpful, a contributor, good father. He's exactly the kind of man you want in a marriage, as a partner in raising children, and as a soul mate. Plus, he puts up with a lot- from me.
However, there is one glaring problem. He probably doesn't even know it's a problem. If he reads this, he'll be shocked to realize it's a problem.
He's not exactly my "Knight In Shining Armor" when my imagination has taken over, or when there are critters to be dealt with.
One time before we were married, I arrived at my much older apartment (which was actually a guest house of a historic home in downtown Monroe. It used to hold the carriages.) to discover it was so ridiculously hot- my candles had literally melted. I won't lie- I was totally wigged out. Obviously it was some sort of supernatural phenomenon. What else could cause a heating unit to randomly cause my little apartment to get so hot? I called Doug, and he said, "Open your windows. You'll be okay." What?! I'm most likely going to be possessed by a spirit, and you want me to just open the windows?! How about you come to my apartment and fend off the evil ghost? Or say, "Oh love, I can tell by the inflection in your voice that you are feeling uncomfortable by staying there, why don't you come to my warm, safe house, where I will keep you safe."? I married him anyway.
Another time, when the heating/air unit had gone all wacky, in the middle of the summer, I opened the windows- and mice came in. I had mice in my apartment. They were probably like hundreds (or two, but two too many. And let's be real- two mice or a hundred- it's all the same). If I went to sleep- they were going to crawl all over me and eat my face off. I called Doug, and he said, "Go by some mice traps and kill them. You'll be okay." What?! I'm probably going to get the Bubonic Plague or get my face eaten off and you want me to stay there- with mouse traps set?! I'll hear them going off. I'll hear the screams of suffering mice. What he should have said was, "Darling, most beautiful girl, why don't you come to my house- where it's safe and cool- and no mice are waiting for you, and I'll go to the store and get mice traps and set them and wait for the disease ridden, icky things- to be meet their maker and then, and only when it is all safe, you can return home."? And yet, I married him anyway.
This morning, I was taking a shower. I saw a spider on my clear shower curtain. I mistakenly thought he was on the other side of the shower curtain, but when I went to smoosh him, he fell . . . . in the shower with me!!! I couldn't find him anywhere! I was trying not to scream, but there was definitely a LOT of hopping, "EEE EEE EEE-ing" going on. I needed Doug to come in the shower- and tell me the spider had not magically grown to within a 1 inch diameter and was not resting on my back, planting it's egg sack in my skin, so that I would scratch the spot, and burst open the egg sack and then be covered in thousands of baby spiders. He never came in there. Later, when I managed to get out (and see the spider go down the drain) I said, "Did you not hear all the racket in the shower?!" He said, "Oh- yeah but I didn't think it was a big deal." What???? It will be tonight, when I scratch that egg sack and thousands of baby spiders crawl all over you! Good thing I have that "I love my husband" mug- to remind me, why I married him.
However, there is one glaring problem. He probably doesn't even know it's a problem. If he reads this, he'll be shocked to realize it's a problem.
He's not exactly my "Knight In Shining Armor" when my imagination has taken over, or when there are critters to be dealt with.
One time before we were married, I arrived at my much older apartment (which was actually a guest house of a historic home in downtown Monroe. It used to hold the carriages.) to discover it was so ridiculously hot- my candles had literally melted. I won't lie- I was totally wigged out. Obviously it was some sort of supernatural phenomenon. What else could cause a heating unit to randomly cause my little apartment to get so hot? I called Doug, and he said, "Open your windows. You'll be okay." What?! I'm most likely going to be possessed by a spirit, and you want me to just open the windows?! How about you come to my apartment and fend off the evil ghost? Or say, "Oh love, I can tell by the inflection in your voice that you are feeling uncomfortable by staying there, why don't you come to my warm, safe house, where I will keep you safe."? I married him anyway.
Another time, when the heating/air unit had gone all wacky, in the middle of the summer, I opened the windows- and mice came in. I had mice in my apartment. They were probably like hundreds (or two, but two too many. And let's be real- two mice or a hundred- it's all the same). If I went to sleep- they were going to crawl all over me and eat my face off. I called Doug, and he said, "Go by some mice traps and kill them. You'll be okay." What?! I'm probably going to get the Bubonic Plague or get my face eaten off and you want me to stay there- with mouse traps set?! I'll hear them going off. I'll hear the screams of suffering mice. What he should have said was, "Darling, most beautiful girl, why don't you come to my house- where it's safe and cool- and no mice are waiting for you, and I'll go to the store and get mice traps and set them and wait for the disease ridden, icky things- to be meet their maker and then, and only when it is all safe, you can return home."? And yet, I married him anyway.
This morning, I was taking a shower. I saw a spider on my clear shower curtain. I mistakenly thought he was on the other side of the shower curtain, but when I went to smoosh him, he fell . . . . in the shower with me!!! I couldn't find him anywhere! I was trying not to scream, but there was definitely a LOT of hopping, "EEE EEE EEE-ing" going on. I needed Doug to come in the shower- and tell me the spider had not magically grown to within a 1 inch diameter and was not resting on my back, planting it's egg sack in my skin, so that I would scratch the spot, and burst open the egg sack and then be covered in thousands of baby spiders. He never came in there. Later, when I managed to get out (and see the spider go down the drain) I said, "Did you not hear all the racket in the shower?!" He said, "Oh- yeah but I didn't think it was a big deal." What???? It will be tonight, when I scratch that egg sack and thousands of baby spiders crawl all over you! Good thing I have that "I love my husband" mug- to remind me, why I married him.
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