Why I Love My Husband (reason # 57368932)
I put on my boots.
“Mary, you is putting on your boots?”
I put their bowls on the table.
“Mary, you putting bowls onna table?”
I change Daniel’s diaper.
“You is changin’ Danny’s diaper, Mary?”
The Onslaught of the Obvious Questions continues unabated. I answer them straight, I dodge them, I divert them … but still they come. Again and again and again. More and more and ever more. Every.Single.Day. I will freely admit that my patience with them is wearing a smidge thin, and that, from time to time, my answers to the incessant deluge of obviousity has been the teeniest bit edgy. Not enough to alarm a toddler, which would be not only unprofessional but unkind. No, my edginess is carefully calibrated to go right over their innocent wee heads, but be enough to ease the pressure of exasperation, before the top of my head blows right off.
“We is having soup for lunch?”
“Jazz is wearing a hat?”
“The doggies has a ball?”
(Why yes, I am looking forward to my Christmas break. Why do you ask?)
“That is a garbage truck?”
“We is painting?”
“You is playing the piano?”
The Wonderful Husband has been off this week, and so has heard (and answered!) many, many, many obvious questions of his own. He is a master of patience with them, and I am supremely grateful for his quiet, gentle presence. And also for his Distraction Factor. Given a choice between hanging with boring old Mary, who they see every day, or Fascinating New Person (aka Wonderful Husband), the choice is clear.
“I put on my coat?”
“Poppy is inna high chair?”
“You gets your mail?”
(It may even be that once in a while someone has sent the tots to the other end of the house, just to see what he’s up to. Not to get rid of them, of course. Just so they can bask in the wonderfulness of his presence.)
“Grace has a sparkle in her hair?”
“It is lunch time?”
“Rory is reading a book?”
This is my last day of work until January and, really? Since it means several gazillion more of these BLOODY STUPID OBVIOUS QUESTIONS before I’m done, today CAN’T END SOON ENOUGH.
“You is banging your head inna wall?”
Yesterday, I dropped oven-dried bread crusts into the food processor. Certain people in this house won’t eat crusts. I will confess this quirk annoys me. I expect the toddlers to eat their damned crusts (and so they do), but… husbands are a different matter entirely. Sigh. However, as he is an otherwise Perfect Human Being, I let the crust thing go. I’m magnanimous that way.
Besides, bread is easy to recycle. Easy, easy. Toast them crispy in a low oven (preferably one you’re already using to cook something else) let them dry completely, break them into bits to feed through the tube of the food processor, and, a few noisy seconds later, bread crumbs! Ta-dah! I haven’t purchased the things in years. Mine are also low-sodium, low-fat, and waaaaay cheaper.
I am running the food processor. The children are napping. For the next couple of hours, I will be blissfully free of stupid obvious questions.
“You makin’ a big noise, Mary???”
I turn to see the much-beloved face of Wonderful Husband looming over my shoulder, his eyes artificially wide and round, the very
picture caricature of innocence.
“You makin’ a big noise?”
I give him The Look. The Look with a twinkle. And a fake scowl.
“Don’t you start with the stupid obvious questions!”
“You not like stupid obvious questions, Mary??” Blink, blink, blink go the big brown eyes.
I point a finger, bring it perilously close to the end of his nose. “You want to lose a limb, sir, you keep that right up.”
(It’s loving exchanges like this, people, that build a long and happy marriage.)
It’s another half-hour or so before I am back in the kitchen, and at first I’m working at a counter with my back to the stove, so it takes a minute before I notice.
I’m thinking of having it framed.