Today we ask, is it ever okay to lie to your spouse?
Some wives would never do it while some guys do it all the time and vice-versa. For myself, it’s inexcusable, admitting however, a tiny loophole for self-defense. After all, the law says its okay to shoot someone in self-defense, what’s a little fib?
See if you don’t agree with my thinking. She asks, “Have you seen my “good” apron?”
There’s a long pause while I ponder alternate responses. Hmm, finally, “No, Dearest, I have not.”
Not a bit of a lie if you choose your words carefully. What I saw was a colorful shop towel hanging from a couple of long strings next to the refrigerator. It’s as if my Beloved and Charming wife knew that I would need a big colorful shop towel to wipe up the battery acid that accidentally splattered all over the dining room table when I stumbled over the Basset Hound.
Women are fixated on “good” things. You’ll never hear your wife say, “Let’s use the bad silverware tonight,” or “I put out the bad towels for company.”
You just thought things were calm when her voice booms through the house, “You’re not using my ‘good’ scissors, are you?” She’s in the kitchen. How could she possibly see me here in the garage cutting new gaskets for the snowblower?
I’m not going to tell a lie because I’ve already finished with the gaskets, so I reply, “Of course not, Dearest, you know I love you and respect your boundaries.” Quick! Quick! Wipe off the grease with the remnants of that acid-eaten apron, er, I mean shop towel and smuggle the scissors back into the sewing basket.
Women’s sacred numbers are four, six, and eight. Men have absolutely no problem with a set of seven open-end wrenches, or five screwdrivers, or three pipe wrenches, but watch out if a woman finds seven soup spoons in the drawer. And God help you if she discovers the one you bent in half opening a can of paint.
Men are a lot more generous when it comes to sharing their tools. I remind my wife often that she is welcome to use my “good” tin snips to cut out a new apron pattern to replace the one inexplicably ruined in the laundry. I don’t mind a bit. I have plenty of “good” hammers that would work well to knock that soup spoon back into shape. But just let me ask to borrow one lousy flour sifter to get the lumps out of my tile grout, and she becomes unreasonable. These are things I was not aware of when we were dating.
Our eyes met for a long time, each puzzled by other’s point of view. Not looking away, she slowly said, “I saw you take one of my ‘good’ knives when you went out to fix the back-up lights on your car.” Each word came out punctuated like the snap of a snare drum, “Maybe. You. Should. Go. Look. In. The. Trunk!” How can she talk like that through clenched teeth?
Next week: Smooth and Steady, or Fast and Frappe? Your food processor could be the answer to lumpy paint!