Complaint Neutered

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Complaint Neutered 

FABULOUS HUSBAND WITH FLAWS

My wife is excellent at ensuring that we go on date nights as often as possible. Most of the time, the activities we do are a blast for me. Our relationship works like this, she is the fun planner, and I show up to the events. I get to be my charismatic self and have a blast—maybe even stir up some stuff. Needless to say, most of the activities are things that we both want to do.

I never really know what we are going to do, though because I have become so dependent on her that I literally wake up every morning not knowing what I am doing for the day. I have no idea who we are hanging out with and I usually don’t even get to pick.

My Saturdays

On Saturday mornings, I wake up and wonder, as if it were Christmas morning, what cool stuff are we going to do today?

My wife usually tells me that we are leaving the house at 10 am. Most of the time, I will get in the car and ask the inevitable question.

“Where are we going?”

My wife will look exasperated and start murmuring—something about how I never listen to her—and then, we are off on our adventure.

My kids will begin to ask who they are hanging out with today. Sometimes, it’s a surprise, and sometimes it’s not. We are all happy, though. Well…all except for my wife—something about how we have been talking about this day for weeks. *shoulder shrug*

The Play

Anyway, the same scenario happened for our date night—without the kids, of course.

This date night we went to see a play.

Let’s pause. I respect the people who put on the production. Hell, I wouldn’t mind being in a play myself. I think that would be cool. The actors and actresses are incredibly talented individuals that have clearly worked hard at their craft. There are just a couple of problems. The tickets are $100. For what!? Seriously, why?

That is a lot of money for something that has no CGI (Computer Generated Imagery). I mean, seriously, there are no explosions? There aren’t any killer robots? This is no asteroid barreling its way to Earth to kill us all? Are they whipping Jesus with glitter right now? Ugh……

If she likes it, I love it…

Now in all fairness, I have seen Jesus Christ Super Star before, but I must have blocked it out. My wife knows that I don’t care too much for plays. What I hate the most is when the actors don’t actually talk, you know, when they sing the whole night? The problem is that they might as well speak in an unknown tongue the whole way through because I can’t follow anything at all.

I felt like a fish out of water. People would laugh, and I would look around confused. At one moment, I looked over at my wife, and she was crying. I thought, “is there something sad going on here?” We weren’t at the crucifixion yet, so I was flummoxed. I spent the entire night confused until I gave up and started thinking about ideas for my blog. Finally, the play ended with great applause and a standing ovation.

Of course, my wife asked me the question that I had been dreading the entire time.

Wife: What did you think?
Me: It was OK.
Wife: What DID you think?
Me: Baby, if you liked it, I loved it. What’s important to me is that you had a great time.
Wife: WHAT DID YOU THINK?
Me: I hated it. I didn’t understand what was going on?
Wife: How do you not know the story of Jesus!?

My wife says she isn’t yelling at me, but with my husband-ears, it sounds like yelling to me.

Jesus, Judas, Mary and King James

Listen, people! I was trying to be kind to my wife.

She has completely neutered my complaints. How can I go to this play and complain about it when she does so many wonderful things that are all about me!?

I would be an asshole if I refused to go to the play, right? Am I an asshole for not liking the play? And of course, I’m an asshole for not knowing the story of Jesus Christ. Why must my wife pigeon hole me into asshole status? I was just trying to be pleasant and accompany her to something she thoroughly enjoys.

As a matter of fact, I know the story of Jesus Christ.

There is Judas and Jesus and his girl Mary. Judas is upset and jealous, and Jesus dies in the end and rises in three days. I got the gist, but I do not remember Mary speaking in the Bible, so when she is on stage singing, I have no idea what she is talking about. That’s not in the Bible.

I don’t do this to my wife when we go to a Lakers game. I don’t turn to my wife and say, “what do you think? No seriously, what do you think?” I also don’t get upset because she doesn’t know the story of King James! “How do you not know the story of King James, and how he battled the west 8 times in a row!? How he has gotten a triple-double against every NBA team in the league. He even opened up a school for children in Ohio while doing all of that.”

Oh, by the way, my cheapness doesn’t really allow me to go to a Lakers game either. To get halfway decent seats, I have to pay for a baby sitter and pay $100 a ticket. I can watch from the comfort of my home and fast forward through the free throws. I’m GOOD baby.

The moral and the man-stare…

What is the moral of this story, you ask?

Both my wife and I work hard at neutering each other’s complaints. To the point that when my wife gets mad at me, I just man-stare her.

If I say so myself, I am a fabulous husband with flaws. I am a guy who puts in work. There is no job I will not do.

You need me to cook? Yep

You need me to clean? Yep

You need me to take care of the car? Yep

Refill a diaper bag? Yep

You need me to notice that the baby needs to be changed, and the diaper bag needs to be refilled? YEP! I’m multitasking like you wouldn’t believe.

Of course, when my wife gets the baby and sees the work, I have done with the diaper bag, the man-stare begins.

Wife: You put the wrong diaper on her. These are the night time diaper’s not the daytime diaper.
Wife: Why on Earth would you put the night time diaper in the diaper bag when we need the daytime diapers?
Wife: You know the diapers don’t go into this part of the bag! There is a special compartment for the diapers right here.
Wife: Why would you put the juice box in this pocket when they go in this pocket over here?
Me: I am going to have to redo all of this.

OK, baby, I love you. I am going to watch the Lakers game.

See—FABOLOUS HUSBAND WITH FLAWS!

Yes, I man-stared the whole way through and I don’t need to say anything. I am a husband who tries to take care of his wife and family the best way I can. I am willing to do whatever is asked or not asked of me. Why? —because we’re parenting together, meeting in the middle, and that’s what it takes to build a marriage and family.

Of course, I will never keep my wife from complaining about me, and she makes my life so fabulous I really have a hard time complaining about her.

We both work hard at making sure we are neutered together.

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Photo by Tim Foster on Unsplash

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