That dreaded question, the question that surely must be the male equivalent of “do these pants make me look fat,” popped up the other night. It is a trick question one can never answer properly, the mere fact that it is being asked an indication of a big thicket sprouting forth to snag you in it’s prickly embrace.
The question is, will you remarry after I die? I’m laughing here, both of these questions are not about the questions being asked at all, but about the intent and meaning behind the questions themselves and the desired response.
It’s somewhat funny, my husband is the one who taught me that. I ask questions all the time, never seeking a literal answer, but rather an emotional one. He rather wisely figured out how to maneuver thorough my perpetual mine field early on. Unfortunately he has also picked up my own habit.
I could never remarry, they broke the mold when they made you.
I think you should have a back up plan so you are never lonely.
There is no back up plan. I would be utterly, completely, totally devastated without you. You are one of a kind.
Well, unlike you I’ll never remarry.
You’re going to have to. You have no idea where the grocery store is and you’ll die quickly if you have to drink your own coffee.
He still looked skeptical, so I had to use my last resort, my ace in the hole. I sprung up suddenly remembering I had to try something on.
Can you tell me if this dress makes me look fat?
You look better in it than 80% of the women I know.
Whoa, now hold up here. Only 80%? Does that mean 20% of the other women you know would look better in it? Who’s the one with the back up plan now?
I don’t have a back up plan. They broke the mold when they made you…… Thank God there is only one of you, he whispers.
Hey, I heard that….but he is already sleeping and one simply cannot argue with a sleeping man.
That’s hilarious! That sounds like something my husband would say! Good read, and very true!
I have a honest husband. “Do these pants make me look fat?”
“Yes, you need to change, otherwise you’ll give the Pillsbury doughboy competition.”
“thanks for lookin’ out.”
We have that type of relationship though. He doesn’t do it to be hurtful, and I don’t take it that way. It’s nice.
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Ahhh, I love to hear a good hubby story. An honest hubby is the best kind.It really is nice, isn’t it? 😉
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Yes ma’am! I’m a happy wife, and I love him and his brutal honesty.
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Amen! Let’s hear it for all the happy wives out there.
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Amen!
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Jon’s response to the “fat dress” question always eases my nerves instantly. He just stares at me briefly, looks me up and down and rolls his eyes. If I press he insists I am hideously obese and need more ribs on show or to bodybuild to the size of she-Hulk. But I know that if I actually got too fat for him, he would take it seriously. It makes me feel so much better to just laugh the concerns away.
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Mike just says I look good and then gives me a strange “disappointed” look, and then I go back to the closet and try on thing after thing to try and get a different expression. But usually, he isn’t even thinking about what I’m doing he’s thinking about fishing, or firearms or cars or work or something. So it’s not really a disappointed expression, but a vacant “wish I was going fishing” stare I take for disappointment.
I ask my sons whenever I want an honest answer.
The oldest is the most honest and blunt in particular (he takes after me).
If I ask,”Do I look poofy?”
And he responds, “No Mama”
I know I’m good. 😛
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Haha!! What is marriage without humor? Well said.
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Women are wired in a very strange and complex way. 😉
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