Saturday, May 30, 2009
The Good Wife's Guide, Part Deux
OK, where was I? Oh yes, wetting my undies:
- Prepare the children. Take a few minutes to wash the children's hands and faces (if they are small), comb their hair and, if necessary, change their clothes. (Well, brownie points for adding "if they're small" but I'm not sure I could get even the little guy to wash his hands and face just cause daddy's walking in the back door. Heck, unless he can luxuriate for an hour in the bath, soap and water are his enemy. The Queenager and Mr. Minimal, on the other hand, need no encouragement whatsoever to change clothes yet again. I have enough laundry as it is.) They are little treasures and he would like to see them playing the part. (Well, playing a part is definitely what they would be doing. I think he would probably denounce them as changelings anyway.) Minimise all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. (Great - if this is what he wants, he can do his own washing and vacuuming. Oh wait, I don't think he even knows where the vacuum is. We've only been in this house 6 years.) Try to encourage the children to be quiet. (I don't need Mr. Wonderful returning to the bosom of the family to make this my daily mission, thank you. In fact, he usually walks in to the dulcit strains of "I don't think they can quite hear that television in Wisconsin Turn - it- down!".)
-Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him,
(Including, but not limited to-
.. There's water on the basement floor, again
.. the upstairs loo has the world's biggest poo floating around in it, and I'm not touching it
.. we can't switch the surround-sound TV on, again
.. the garage door is stuck (if you'd picked up your phone you'd have known before you tried to park in it)
.. the baseball coach (of whom you're just an assistant) managed to get himself ejected from the last game, which apparently also extends to this game - meaning that you're IT, meaning that you should have been there an hour ago - if you'd picked up your phone.)
.. but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first - remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours. (Okey dokey.)
- Make the evening his. Never complain if he comes home late or goes out to dinner, or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.
(OK, well as most of you will have read, these sentences totally contradict each other. If he has a "real need to be at home", why is he tom-catting around of an evening? Perhaps the writer realized how truly ridiculous this little gem was and tried to dig him/herself out of the gaping hole? Any road up, as long as I'm told in advance, I don't really care if the Ball & Chain goes to "places of entertainment" without me, as long as he doesn't a) bring back a "germ" or father a "being". I jest, of course, because it's all highly unlikely these days given that we're both knackered and usually in bed by 10pm. But seriously, .... if he did, I'd knee cap him.)
- Don't greet him with complaints and problems. Why not? Their his kids as well as mine. If I have to listen to the minutiae of his daily life, then he'll bloody well have to reciprocate. And besides, if I don't tell him the problems, what is he going to make of the huge pile of coats in the middle of the living room? He'll never guess that it was because I put the large tupperware box of hats and mittens up on the shelf and the whole bloody lot came down on my head, bringing the coat rack with it, will he?