How Do You Like Girls Now?
My son dragged me to the garage sale down the street last week. Boy did I make him sorry. I bought a computer desk. We've needed a new one for a while and I promised him the old one. He was excited. I was excited.
Then it arrived and we had to figure out where to put it. Hubby got out the tape measure and I got out my bossy hat. A short time later, my boy became a man. He moved his first sofa.
A few hours yet later, after sweat had broken and vacuuming had raised dust to stick to said sweat, the young man said, "This sucks."
His wise father said, "Get used to it, son. You get married and every few years--no one knows why--but your wife will want to rearrange the furniture. It's one of the great mysteries of the universe."
Yes, it's true and I get extremely uptight--E.X.T.R.E.M.L.Y. U.P.T.I.G.H.T--if furniture is moved in my absence. Hubby often thinks he's being helpful by "getting it done." I took a few minutes to examine why this puts me over the edge.
The thing is, generally when I want to move furniture, I want to wind up with a space which ultimately pleases me. I approach it in a creative manner to that end. I want to devote time to it the way anyone might spend time being creative. (A writer who enjoys being creative--go figure.)
So when hubby just throws a desk in a corner to get it out of the way, I feel not just dismayed with the result, but I feel robbed of a creative experience.
Pity the fool who does such a thing to me.
And this, I think, is where many men get themselves into trouble. I will grant you that there is not an artful way to take out the garbage, but there is an artful way to arrange books on a shelf or remotes on a coffee table. Many of us ladies want to find it. We would love it if it stayed that way. Living art becomes draining.
And I think this is why men start refusing to go to garage sales or antiquing with their wives. Moving furniture is also draining.
"Hey, bud, there's a garage sale this weekend. Wanna go?"
Yep, he's a man.