Honestly, if I lived with The Mom of the Year, I would probably be a little intimated too. I’m pretty sure when my husband greets me with a wary face upon his return home from work it has nothing to do with the screaming children or toys strewn all over the house–he’s just in awe of me and isn’t really sure what to say. It would kind of be like coming home and finding The Queen in your kitchen, except a bigger deal. So yeah, I can imagine how he feels.
|Source: Microsoft Office ClipArt
Oh yes, honey, you are actually this lucky and already put a ring on it…
He also must be totally grateful for my dedication throughout the day in giving him blow-by-blows of the latest playdate minutia. Who wouldn’t? Sure, it’s incredibly generous of me to take the time to keep him abreast of all the latest developments on the potty-training scene, but hey, I love him so I’ll make the sacrifice. And I even get that sometimes he just lets me go straight to voicemail because he has to pretend that he’s not being totally desperate for my calls. It’s okay honey, we can maintain the pretense that you have “stuff to do at work”–the male ego being what it is and all…
Sometimes he even acts “put out” with my occasional ignorance of technology. Seriously, I was supposed to learn how to check my voicemail in under two months with my new phone? And he can’t possible expect me to be able to figure out how to record something on the DVDR without throwing at least a minimal-sized tantrum. That contraption has never worked. Ever. C’mon, you’ve gotta at least be reasonable in your expectations…In any case, I understand that his frustration is feigned. My husband is obviously just trying to equalize the power balance in the household. Being that I’m generally so much cooler than him, he has to try to highlight some of the negative. Personally, I find my refusal to participate in modern technology charmingly sweet.
So all in all, I’m pretty sure my husband is secretly wowed by me. Of course, he doesn’t want to admit this openly, lay all of his hand on the table, and show me the depths of his fascination. I get this–hey, we’ve only been married 11 years, so he doesn’t want to rush things. So dear husband, when you next give me those circumspect glances, I’ll just understand that you are thinking “Are you really mine? Can this be true?” vs. “What the heck is this woman doing? And how did I put a ring on this?”. I get you, honey–it’s cool.