i’m ashamed to admit it, but several weeks ago i was talking to a girlfriend and we were commiserating about how truly undervalued homemakers are in our society. that’s not what i’m ashamed to admit, that’s coming up soon. the conversation started out innocently enough and we kept on track for quite some time. innocent enough. but then, you see, before too long we slid face-first into the inevitable kvetching about how truly undervalued we homemakers are in our own homes. i don’t know what it is about these gripe sessions about societal ills that always brings us (maybe not all housewives, but at least many in my small circle of marrieds) around to griping about our not-so-insignificant others.
i have on several occasions made a promise to myself not to badmouth my spouse to other people. i find this a very noble quality in the few wives i’ve seen demonstrating it…like mamaT. i think mamaT would rather stick needles in her eyeballs than say anything negative about papaC.
as i was telling you, i have on several occasions made a promise to myself not to badmouth my spouse to other people. by “other people” i mean not to anyone but him. but, it turns out i’m like the smoker who quits over and over again – which means i never really quit, doesn’t it? or maybe i’m like the alcoholic who insists on joining my friends at a bar, thinking i can just hang out without actually participating in the (pity) party. regardless, i hate when the kvetching is over because i always end up feeling so disloyal and spent. it just isn’t worth it. so, how is it that these types of sessions always seem to lead to a bitchfest about how our spouses just don’t give us enough props?
i’m sure there are very profound psychological and emotional reasons for this, but basically i think it boils down to pride and pity, or both. whatever the reason, finally i realized the other day just how pathetic it all sounded. i realized that i was complaining about the very traits in the sexy smockdaddy that attracted me to him in the first place. the scary part is that my reprimand came to me with mamaT’s voice. so, when exactly did that supreme self-confidence of his turn into insufferable arrogance? yeah, um, well . . .
anyway, another friend of mine called friday hoping to settle into a nice gripe session about her husband. i cringed when it hit me that she actually felt comfortable expecting to be able to share her bile with me. so, like the alcoholic on her way back on the wagon, i admitted to her that i couldn’t saddle up to that bar with her and suggested we focus on how sexy and wonderful our men are. it felt good. i just hope it lasts.