Married Life Dept.

So there were my beloved M and I, about to enter the elevator* to our apartment on the fifth floor. She’s about two hours late coming home because of an important matter at work, and she looks harrassed.

Being the naturally suave** gentleman that I am, I nonchalantly blurt, “Wanna have dinner out?”

The look that she gives me is one for the books–it’s a combination of anger, exasperation, and impatience (not necessarily in that order). She draws in a huge a breath for the mother of all retorts, “I’m tired, I had to go to the grocery, buy things to cook tonight…Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

And there I am with the sheepish look on my never nonplussed face.  Note that I never meant to make light of her hurried shopping for vegetables. I didn’t mean anthing bad with my question. I should have been more senstive to her, though. I knew that she was tired from work and I thought dinner out would lighten the load–no cooking, no washing dishes, etc.*** What I didn’t figure out was that she’d gone grocery shopping–the two shopping bags she was carrying should have been a giveaway, but I had other things on my mind at the time. (Like, what’s for dinner.)

Sometimes we men can be insensitive to what goes on around us. It is even worse when we’re insensitive to our wives and their needs.  

Nobody ever said loving your wife the way Christ loves the church would be easy. 


*This story happened more than a month ago. The elevator has sinced conked out and won’t be repaired for another couple of weeks or so. 

**I twirl a cane in my spare time.

***Only one word describes how M and I wash dishes–it’s an “adventure.”



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s