The Next Twenty
Remember – and even though you may old like me, you might remember, since it was JUST THIS WEEK – when I wrote all those sweet loving things about my husband in honor of our twentieth wedding anniversary?
Well, I meant all those endearing words about his endearing charms.
However.
Friday I learned that I am married to another guy.
I think perhaps while I was at work those pod people from “Invasion Of The Body Snatchers” came to my house and surprised my real husband before he could pull out his new gun.
The day started out okay. He was normal at breakfast. He was cranky and had a lot of coffee. That’s him all right.
And when I first got home, he seemed okay.
I had made my Cheater’s Turkey Soup. When I roast my turkey on Thanksgiving, I add broth, carrots, celery, and onion in the bottom of the pan. By the time my turkey is done, I’ve got the soup pretty much on the way. I just put it in my big stockpot, and add the carcass once we are through scavenging (that’s the word when you pick at a carcass, right?). An hour later…turkey soup.
My husband was excited about having that nice turkey soup, and he had said at breakfast he would put it on in the morning and let it simmer all day. I reminded him that everything had already cooked a really long time, and he agreed to wait until 3:30 to put the soup on the stove.
When I got home, he had forgotten. Naturally.
But now I see. This was just a ruse by the alien to make me think it was my normal husband.
When we sat down to dinner (an hour later than I had planned), I noticed something very odd. My husband was eating his soup with a fork!
“Why are you eating soup with a fork?” I asked.
“I’m eating the meat and veggies first,” he explained.
“But it’s SOUP!” I pointed out, as it seemed to require pointing out.
“I’ll have the broth after I finish the insides. That’s how I like it.”
That’s how he likes it? Since when? We’ve been married twenty years. Never. Not once. No. Never.
My husband is eccentric, but he’s a consistent eccentric.
I was suspicious.
Then the clincher.
My husband has sore hands from all the yard cleanup he had to do after our big storm. This includes a small cut on his thumb. The cut was still there, so the alien is not sweet E.T. who can heal these injuries.
As we finished dinner, my alien/husband said, “My hand really hurts, so I would appreciate it if you could do the dishes.”
Huh?
I won’t say my husband never does dishes. I still work full-time, but he is retired, so he puts the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher ever morning. And he occasionally helps with the dinner dishes.
I figured it out. In twenty years,that would be 7,305 days (with leap years). If we eat out once a week, that means 260 days with no dishes. That leaves 7,045 dish-washing days. I would say he has helped at least 100 times.
That means I have done the dishes 6,945 times, or approximately 98.7% of the dish days.
And yet he asked me if I could do the dishes. Like it was a special favor to him. Just this once.
So at sixty years old, I figure I have another twenty years to live with this alien.
I just hope he can still fix stuff.
notquiteold 
” I just put it in my big stockpot, and add the carcass once we are through scavenging (that’s the word when you pick at a carcass, right?). An hour later…turkey soup.” TMI .. hahaha
That is why Cup Cake keeps me around, I can fix things, and of course, I am also capable of lifting heavy objects … the perfect marriage made in heaven (where you also find thunder and lightning occasionally) another good read … thanks.
DS
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This one had me chuckling! (I don’t think we ever completely understand ’em, no matter how long we live with ’em!)
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My mother’s presence turns my husband into an alien. When she’s around he starts unloading dishwashers and making beds.
“Blasting out a Blog” is my post where I mentioned your blog. Hope you get a chance to check it out.
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Thanks for mentioning me…and in such a nice way!
My father used to be very helpful when there was company too. It’s in the testosterone, I think.
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Well girl, I guess I don’t know your husband like I thought I did either (from following your blog, of course) because I was sure the grand finale was going to be your opening the dishwasher to load up and ta-da! SURPRISE! another piece of jewelry or other exciting anniversary gift! I better go back to bed and wake up from this dream, I guess.
ha!
Another terrific post.
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What a nice dream… could I have THAT husband, please?
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I have been with my guy for 16 years and every once in a while I scratch my head in amazement. I wonder if we do crazy things like that? No, I don’t think so. Not us.
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Oh that was funny! I love that you actually did the math on the dishes.
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I can’t help it. I’m an accountant.
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Oh, he’s definitely an alien. The soup with a fork thing was a dead giveaway. Don’t worry. I shall notify the proper authorities, and your rescue operation will be initiated shortly. Try not to show any surprise when a man in a white HazMat suit appears at your door, and says he is your Uncle Tom.
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That was so funny! My hubby keeps saying (when he does or says something goofy), “Now I don’t want you blogging about that.” !!!
Does your guy read your posts???
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uh,,,no,
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Makes me smile and feel I am not alone on this journey with an alien husband.
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My husband and I run our own business and have worked together (as in within 15 feet of each other) for 25+ years. Every time he does some household chore, not well but you can at least tell he was making a half-hearted attempt at it, he then follows me around the house waiting for me to thank him. Seriously, every time.
But never, not once, in all those years have I ever arrived at the office and stood next to his desk waiting for him to thank me for turning up yet again. Never.
And he really doesn’t get what I’m talking about when I point this out despite being, at heart, a very nice man.
I blame the defective ‘Y’ chromosome.
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I have a friend whose pet peeve was that her husband expected to be thanked for doing the housework. It especially drove her nuts when he would say, “I did your vacuuming for you.” HER vacumming?
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Isn’t it great how they can still surprise us after all this time?!
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Men’s perception of their role in household chores never ceases to amaze me. My husband does the dishes every night that I cook dinner. That’s the rule – she who cooks does not clean up. He does an excellent job cleaning up, but when he is done he always says, “Look! Doesn’t the kitchen look great!” I’m working on having a statue erected in the garden in his dish doing honor.
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It’s always amazing to me when my husband of 22 years does something or mentions something that I’ve never seen or heard before. You think you know someone, and then surprise! It’s actually kind of intriguing.
My husband does the dishes sometimes. But my favorite is on the weekends when he says “I made the bed FOR YOU.” Like he doesn’t sleep in it also?
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Now I have another thing to admire about you: your ciphering skills! When presented with facts like these, he doesn’t stand much of a chance, sore hand or not! Eat out more when he plans yard work!
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TOO too funny!!
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Oh my gosh! I think our husbands morph somewhere along the line… just to freak us out. Mine has done the same thing – does something weird, and when I question it, he’s like “I’ve always liked that – done that – hated that -” whatever…. and we’ve been married 27 years! It’s really bizarre.
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