Recently, my husband and I were getting ready to go to a gathering.
I was ironing a dress I found in the back of my closet, madly emptying a drawer to find pantyhose that fit, and curling my hair. At the same time, I was composing a heartfelt message in my head to write in the birthday card, and I remembered that I still had to wrap the gift.
Fortunately, I had just finished cutting the vegetables for the salad I was supposed to bring, but I was worried about whether the salad was large enough and whether I should have made something else to bring. I mentally scanned the contents of my pantry to see if there was anything else I could throw together.
I ran to the garage in my underwear to pack up some soda to bring with us (it was a bring your own drinks party) when my husband came out with hangers on his arms wanting me to choose which shirt he should wear. I quickly pointed at one and moved on.
Next, I set the card out with a pen so my husband could sign it and stopped long enough to show him where to sign (and tell him what to write). Then, I made sure the card got attached to the gift.
I found the invitation (with the address on it) and made sure it was in my purse so we could punch it in the GPS.
It should be noted that I was still running around in my underwear with my hair half-curled and my make-up threatening to slide off my face because by this time I was sweating from all the exertion.
That’s when my husband innocently announced, “Well, I’m ready to go!”
I knew those words were coming. He says that whenever we go anywhere and it drives me bonkers because what I hear is: “Well, I’M ready to go!” Like it’s some kind of competition and he just won. I’m pretty sure that what the dear man really means is: “Don’t worry about me, I’m ready to go.” But, hearing those words irks me to no end.
I usually reply sarcastically, “Are you? Are you ready to go? How wonderful for you!”
Because it’s never even, is it? As much as Dads have evolved into wonderful helpers and partners, it’s still not the same. Whenever leaving the house, the majority of the prep-work falls on moms.
Mom’s brains are full. They’re full all the time. My brain had been full ever since we had received the invitation to the birthday party. I was the one who checked to see if we were free that day. I wrote it on the calendar and made sure we didn’t double-book ourselves in the following weeks. I worried about what to buy the birthday girl, checked to see if we had wrapping paper and ribbon and tape and chose a card that was appropriate. I RSVP’d and asked what I could bring, bought the ingredients, and made the salad.
It’s not that my husband isn’t willing to help, it’s just that he’s not good at it. He cannot juggle all the balls that have to be in the air at the same time. He once gave me a surprise birthday party without cleaning the house, having me dress up, nor buying any ice cream, drinks, or snacks. It was a memorable birthday.
A few weeks ago, I made him responsible for driving our grandkids to school (I had just had surgery). He woke the teens up WHEN IT WAS TIME TO LEAVE THE HOUSE. He honestly thought a teen-aged girl could get up and head straight to the car and to school.
So, I continue to do all the work to get us ready to go anywhere, because I am good at it.
But, the words, “Well, I’m ready to go,” still drive me crazy.
I’ve glared at him enough times that after he makes his declaration he very wisely retreats to the garage until I call him in to help me carry things to the car. Once in the car, he looks at me and says, “Now, where are we going again and what are we doing?” I give him the stink-eye until he rummages around in his brain and remembers, “Oh, yeah, it’s someone’s birthday.”
I have reluctantly accepted the fact that I will always be the family’s social director, although there are times I’d love to pass the task onto someone else.
But, then again, since we’ve been married, I have never washed or fixed any of our cars. I’ve never had to mow the lawn or do house repairs and he faithfully worked for forty years to support our family, so there’s that.
God sure knew what he was doing when he made man and woman (imagine that). And when it’s time to leave this earth, I’m pretty sure my husband will say, “Well, I’m ready to go!”
“So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them.” Genesis 1:27
“And the Lord God said, “It is not good that man should be alone; I will make him a helper comparable to him.” Genesis 2:18
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