#367 Honey Do
You think women have the same number of senses as men? Wrong-o. They have a sixth sense. They can see and hear through walls. Here's proof:
You're just settling in to watch the ballgame, paint the fence, write the Great American Novel, practice the banjo. You've got the volume on the TV down low. You have arranged a bowl of chips and a six pack on the end table and have just put your feet up on the coffee table and leaned back onto the couch. Or you've washed and dried the fence, dragged the paint cans, rollers, brushes, trays, the can-opening screwdriver and the drop cloths out to the front yard and are about to pry open the lid on a gallon of Dutch Boy Oyster White. Or you've opened the word processor to the last line in the most recent chapter and are about to insert a brilliant twist of plot. Or you've opened the four latches on the banjo case, taken out the banjo, tuned it up and are about to do your opening exercise.
No sooner do any of those things happen, when the spouse with the x-ray eyes and bionic ears, who is two stories above you in the upstairs bedroom calls out to you and asks you to come up and help rearrange the color-order of slacks and tops in her closet, or the ties in your closet or the statuette display on her bureau top. Something -- anything -- that breaks your concentration.
You've carefully planned the day so you could watch the Yankees play Boston. Home Depot finally called and said your paint order is in. Or you've finally come up with that plot twist that's been eluding you for the past six weeks. Or you finally doped out the chords to "Foggy Mountain Breakdown," and you're ready to roll. But, no.
"Can you come here for a minute?"
How does she know? The only answer is x-ray eyes and bionic ears.
"Can it wait for a few minutes, honey?"
That does not mean the x-ray eyes have stopped taking x-rays or that the bionic ear has returned to regular hearing. It means she's not going to answer you because she knows if she does, you'll just sit there and if she doesn't, you'll come upstairs with a cloth to polish the mirrors or a color chart to help with the rearranging of the slacks in the closet.
Valiant, you give it a second try.
"Can it wait a few minutes, honey."
Again, no answer.
So much for the ballgame, the fence, the novel and "Foggy." You're going to be spending the afternoon rearranging figurines that don't need rearranging.
She'll ask for your opinion. And you'll say the current arrangement is fine. But that won't be good enough. You've got to move some ceramic or some cotton and wood before she'll be satisfied. Shows you care. Shows you're thinking about IMPORTANT stuff -- not just baseball, painting, writing or bluegrass.
And then, after rearranging the slacks or the statuettes, she'll go ahead and put them where she wants them, anyway. By which time one of the teams will have a clear lead, it'll be two dark or cold or damp to start painting, you'll have forgotten the brilliant plot twist and you won't remember which song it was you were going to practice.
But you've shown you care. And that you think about the IMPORTANT stuff.
How DO they do that?
I'm Wes Richards. My opinions are my own, but you're welcome to them. ®
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