After being saved by my Aunt once again (she had often rescued me with the two kids bringing nourishment from wendy's and a calming body to hold a crying baby). We got into a discussion about husbands and our lives.
We talked about the things you should never ask your husband. Like the questions that could just paint him into a corner where there may not be any right answer.
I avoid those questions and decided that if I didn't want anything, but a significantly honest answer I shouldn't ask it. Afterall, I married a very honest person who isn't what you call 'suave'.
Tonight thinking I am being flirtatious I ask him "do you think I am hot?" I know, I know. By the title of this post you probably know how this story is going to end. He replies "Yes". 1 point for correct answer. I say on a scale of one to ten. He says "I am not going to answer that because there is no right answer".
What? First of all me and my little mind thinks duh say "11"! And I tell him "11" would be the correct answer. He replies "you can't ask questions that you don't want to hear the honest answer. "
At this point I've started scowling and I think "Well, gosh I wish I was someone's 11!"
I sit here in my hand me down moomoo nightgown from my great grandmother from the sixties in synthetic mauve. Why the heck couldn't he just lie to me? I think it would have given him brownie points in heaven if he had.
Seriously, he would have gotten to the pearly white gates and Peter would have said "And what good deeds did you do to be able to enter paradise" and He would have replied proudly " I told my wife she was beautiful even though she hadn't showered in two days and had baby puke on her shirt and mascara smeared all over her face" "I told her she was super hot to me even though she meanders the house at night in a moomoo and last but not least..."
At this point Peter already so impressed leans forward in his walker making the tennis ball covered legs quiver under his excited grasp (You totally know ol' peter is a dinasour and has gotten arthritis from standing there for the past millenia)
He cranes his hooked neck and pushes his ear horn right up to my hsubands unshaven lips not wanting to miss this next good deed.
"When my wife was in labor and was walking around moaning practically nude with her hippo belly, in her hospital room, green headband pushed against her 3 month long roots I told her I had never seen a more beautiful women in the whole world"
"My dear son!" Peter creaks while wiping away tears--because of his cataracts not because of joy--"For all the white lies you told on earth you will have that many more pleasures in Heaven".
So me and my moomoo are still sulking l about our hurt ego's. Her's beause I am not wearing the fancy matching robe with fabric covered buttons, and me because I am not an 11 to the person I chose to marry for the rest of my existence. Humph.
I feel like I should put some curlers in my hair and start smoking a cigarette to finish off the whole tired mom look. If you came over to my house you would probably see more resemblence between me and Maxine then a fresh faced almost 25 year old.
True that I am not 19 anymore, that I am still working off my baby 'muscle' and that I have been known to sport a good inch of leg hair, but I still like to fantasize that what I present to my husband is that red haired college girl without stretch marks and tired eyes.
I would like to believe that I am wearing a full body mask of the girl I once was. And I realize that although a woman I am still a self conscious pre teen at times.
Either way I have learned my lesson.
Don't ask a question that could possibly be answered wrongly. More importantly, when asking a question remember the person your talking to.