I was browsing in a store last week, and happened to observe a couple shopping for house accents and decorations. The female subject was excited and animated and verbal, talking about how these items would just look SO NICE in their home, wouldn’t they, honey? The male subject, on the other hand, had a look on his face that could best be described as one who is in the midst of a colonoscopy and is completely awake. That is, until his better half looked at him. Then his face magically changed to one that, shall we say, was a bit more engaging and happy.
I began to wonder: is this something that I do? I know I’ve broached the subject of men versus women before, how we are from Mars, they are from Venus, yada-yada-yada…. but this one intrigued me. Could it be that I feign interest in stuff that Anne is pumped up about, and also have such an obvious look of pain and torture on my face when I really shouldn’t? I know that my eyes glaze over and I blank out from time to time, but this facial anomaly was something I hadn’t explored.
The answer to this is of course I do. I just hadn’t notice it. I’m sure that, given her eagle-like eyesight and razor-sharp reflexes, Anne has probably noticed. If she has, it sure explains a lot. It explains how we can go from discussing her new hair colour to me being in hot water. It most definitely explains how we can be looking at something she likes (insert what you want here….clothes, decorations, uh…..other things I’m sure she likes but I can’t seem to remember), and all of a sudden, the air temperature drops 10 degrees and I’m getting the ‘look’.
Here’s one: she asks me ‘Do you remember what you said to me in the car ten years ago? You know, when the fall leaves were just the perfect shade of red and yellow, the sun was at just the right angle, and blah-blah-blah de blah-blah?’(I’m pretty sure I lost her at ‘Do you…’). I had a pained look on my face. How do I explain to her that I don’t even remember what I had for lunch today, and it’s only 2 o’clock? How do I explain to her the science of ‘false memories’, how a conversation you had ten years ago can’t possibly be totally remembered, because she stores memories filed by ‘emotion’, and I file them by ‘men’s logic’? (men’s logic is a whole other topic, one I’m sure that will cause some controversy).
I was in a pickle. If I answer ‘yes’, I’ll then have to actually remember what it was we discussed, what it means to the present situation, and have to figure out how it will affect the game I am trying to watch on television. If I answer ‘no’, I’m not only in trouble, but am also subject to ‘falsification’, meaning she can pretty much say anything, and to her, it will have been true. She can say I promised to buy her a house in the country, that I promised to have a ‘six-pack’ by this date, or that I told her that I’d run naked through town at midnight whenever she’d want. So, what to do?
It is perhaps fortunate that at that moment, our kids walked into the room and asked if I wanted to go for a ride. I was all over that like a fat kid on a pork chop. In order to avoid this discussion, believe me when I say that I was ready to drive to Ottawa if necessary.
As men, we often go to great lengths to avoid painful topics or discussions. I once painted a whole room to avoid talking about Anne’s new hair cut. And I hate painting. I’d rather have my blood sucked out by leaches than paint, and yet, to avoid that particular topic, a-painting I went.
Inevitably, however, Anne is not fooled. Just as I was lying down, closing my eyes, and was about to say my last ‘I love you’ of the day, I heard her say, ‘So…..do you remember what you said in the car 10 years ago?’ My last ‘I love you’ of the day slipped out of my mouth of its own accord, and Anne said ‘You DO remember!!’
And it made me love her even more. Now, how do I ask her to let me sleep?
Bill's Musings 