“I want a wife”

A friend of mine once said to me… “Caroline, I want a wife.” She is female and so I said, “uhm…babe… is there something you want to tell me?” After giving me a death stare she said, “No, I don’t want a wife for companionship; of course I want a man for that, but I want a wife for what they can do.” I thought about this briefly at the time, thought it was cute, but didn’t put much more thought into it. Then I got married and found out that she was ABSOULTELY right.

When I married my husband, I found that a strange and very specific surgery takes place. The man receives a secret lobotomy- I’m dead serious. And in the removal of this particular section of his brain, he ceases to function as the independent person that you knew him for when you dated. Honestly, it’s one of mother nature’s cruel tricks. I’ll explain.

Point 1: The kitchen has become a foreign place to him

While we were dating, I remember on several occasions being woken up to a freshly prepared breakfast- not cereal and a nutra-grain bar, but eggs, bacon, toast, grits, fresh fruit… I remember getting off work to hang out with him in the evening, and getting to his place to find a special dinner prepared by HIM. But now, I’ve noticed that he doesn’t seem to remember how to wash a dish, let alone cook! Since marrying, I’ve gotten ONE (exactly ONE) meal prepared for me by the “husband” version of this person. I think I also received a mild attempt when a cereal bowl was filled for me as well? Grocery shopping is as he puts it, “all me” and kitchen cleaning has become completely reliant on me. Instead of asking him to wash the dishes, I ask him to load them into the dishwasher, because cleaning a dish has turned into “rinse it and stick it on the drying rack”. I asked him once… “Did you want to make dinner a couple of nights this week?” And I got- “but you do it so well, I’d just mess it up!”

Point 2: Common sense is out the door.

I don’t like dumb people. I just don’t have the patience. Anyone who knows me knows I have pretty high expectations. When I was dating I had some guidelines, some of which were college educated, income minimum, finance savvy, common sense. And my “final pick” has all that stuff, but the last one is tested A LOT. Post-wedding, the displays of common sense are few and far between. Can you please explain to me why someone so educated, someone entrusted with the lives of minors on a regular basis, someone who is VERY financially savvy can have such as the following conversation with me?

Me: “Why is there broken glass all over the front stoop of the house?”

Caveman: “Oh, yeah. I had an accident with the window today. There was this icicle hanging from the roof [Note: the icicle was directly in front of an upstairs window], so I threw a [very large] shovel directly at it [and the house] to knock it down. Didn’t want it to fall and hurt someone and then we get sued…[wink]” I am on the receiving end of things like that at least 2x a month!

Point 3: He can no longer find anything

Guess what?! My name is no longer the one on my birth certificate. In fact I haven’t heard that one in awhile. Instead I hear, “Babe, have you seen by _______”. It’s funny in a way, because in the course of his lobotomy, I believe that God has stepped in and complimented his loss with a gift just for me- sharpening my senses to those similar to a cyborg blood hound. I regularly notice the location of things and my memory has increased ten-fold. In the course of noticing locations, I automatically, internally process it for future reference. For instance when hearing, “Babe, have you seen my wallet?” My brain automatically remembers the last time I saw it. Then I quickly interview him about his recent whereabouts, and am able to locate the said item (in 30 minutes or less! I’m like 15 and 0, by the way). I’m amazed myself sometimes, and the places we will locate things- inside his shoe, on the ground outside, trash can…. It’s scary.

I love him, and these events make life so memorable, but if his new shortcomings are becoming my new duties of a wife, then I want one too!