I'm not always a bad wife. I'm actually a really good wife. Use any barometer you like (except for doing his laundry) and I'll come up pretty high on the register for being a good wife. Dinner on the table, check. Buys all the Christmas presents for his family, check. Hand washes his special beer mugs, check.
But every now and then, despite my
sporadic dedicated efforts and good intentions, I come pretty close to losing my hard earned "excellence in wedded bliss" badge. The first time was when we had been married about about three years.... [insert dream sequence]
At that time, we were dirt poor and living in the cutest little bungalow in Portland. It was almost Christmas and the wind was whistling through our bungalow in earnest. As in most years, I had finished my holiday shopping embarrassingly early and was at home making Christmas Cookies with K1. The Old Goat had asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I took it as a sign of desperation. At that time in his life, he didn't believe in shopping early. He hadn't ventured out even once.
I took pity on him and told him the only thing I wanted was a new electric skillet. *gasp* I know! I know! I asked for something with an electric cord! Something that could be cooked on no less! But, as I said, we were poor and I was sure there was some sucker retailer out there that had them on sale for cheap. I thought it was the perfect practical gift and my old one was rapidly failing. I hadn't turned out a decent pancake for a long time. (I'd secretly been in the kitchen picking Teflon coating off the tops of the pancakes for months, hence the pitted tops which I passed off as lumpy batter)
So that year, TOG waited until Christmas Eve to shop because he thought it would be a power play on his part.... Christmas Eve and all the stores would be trying to dump their wares for 50%, 60%, maybe even 70% off! Oh the buys he could get! Armed with his impeccable strategy and our rubbery check book, he sallied forth in search of bargains. He returned triumphant, with a huge box. I knew I had the electric skillet of my dreams. I began to salivate... and plan...chicken and dumplings, pancakes, scrambled eggs...
On Christmas morning, I dove for the box. Tore the wrapping off. Turned it and stared adoringly at the front. Which touted the benefits of my new electric Wok.
Yes. I was the owner of a new electric wok. Surprise!
TOG was encouraging. Yes, they'd been out of electric skillets. But he'd gotten a deal on the wok. He even bought me stir fry tools. Wasn't it great? Wasn't it? I gently explained that I didn't think I could make a pancake in a wok. Even though it was lovely and all. Lovely AND thoughtful. Very thoughtful. TOG slowly said that he supposed I could take it back if I didn't think it would work out. It was the opening I was looking for. I did just that. Big mistake.
Just because I could take it back, didn't mean I should. For years, I was reminded of the The Betrayal. When I'd returned the perfectly good wok that he'd selected so lovingly. I was the bad wife... the shatterer of holiday cheer... The repudiator of gifts... The Returner....[end dream sequence]
This year, after many years of trying to live down my bad rep as The Returner, I felt the noose close around my neck. Actually, the choker....Because this year, TOG got me this.
Well, not quite that. They aren't pink. But they are a choker. And they are pearls. He may be reading this and so I'll say that I like jewelery. But I'm not the lover of pearls that TOG is. He loves 'em. He thinks pearls look lovely against my pasty white skin. (I know, it was sweet) He wasn't sure I'd like them though, so he said I might return them if they weren't right for me. He'd had to buy a shorter strand than he wanted because they were out of the longer ones. That sound you're hearing is the pearls tightening around my neck.
So last weekend, I packed up my pearls and Girlfriend/K2 and I drove down to the jewelery store. I wasn't clear if I was supposed to trade them in on earrings, or buy a bigger strand or just get TOG's money back and drop by the camera store to look at lenses. I'm pretty sure it wasn't the last option. That would put me in the bad wife hall of fame (BWHOF). There'd be no redemption.
So as I stood in the lobby explaining that I wasn't a pearl kind of a girl, they patiently sent me to the cashier who timidly informed me that the chain had gone into bankruptcy after a horrible holiday season and they couldn't give me a refund, only store credit. So I took my store card and went back out in the lobby and looked at pearls. And rubies. And sapphires. And peridot. And more pearls (they have a lot of pearls). I looked at the big old diamonds and little eternity bands. Journey necklaces. Promise rings. Bracelets. Then I got in the car and drove away.
TOG was floored. "You didn't buy anything?"
"Um... well...Not yet."
How do you explain that you spent an hour in a jewelery store and didn't see anything you liked.
My ovaries must be shutting down. I'm sunk.
Bad wifeAsthmagirl out!