A Little Something for the Newlyweds: Nobody's Feminist

     I remember the day.  The week, the month and the terrible, teeth-clenching year.  Sometime during our first year of marriage, some smart aleck one in our Sunday school class threw their wise head back and let out a hearty laugh and said, "Whew, the second year was the hardest.  I have heard a lot of people say so."  When Mickey and I got in the car later, I looked at him and he looked at me.  We agreed that we were in trouble and wondered out loud together; who would kill whom?
      We will have our 19th anniversary this summer.  There is no secret.  I am stupid and he puts up with me. And vice versa.  There is something I would do differently, though.
      There are two chores I have always done.  Laundry and groceries.  I like them.  They are my favorites.  I love laundry so much that my efforts to teach the DIRs to do it have gone by the wayside because I always go do it for them.  Because it comforts me.  And I took a great deal of satisfaction, when Mickey told me by Skype, "I can't make the laundry pile go away."
      I love groceries in a different way, but just as much.  Even when I am broke, it is a challenge-- me against the corporate machine.  Or me in my imaginary magazine life...shopping at the small market.  Bringing home the delicious and the nutritious to my family.  Knowing the best price, making a list, deciding HOW to stay on budget.  Figuring out how not to make millions of trips.  Learning the layout of each grocery store, so I can, "Run right in and run right out".
   Stop the music.
     I have not let my husband do these chores.  No Laundry. No problem.  No Grocery.

HUGE PROBLEM.

      In the last week, I have felt like something you shovel up in the chicken yard.  With one thing and another, he has offered or agreed to go to the grocery twice or more, each time for a very few number of items. which I appreciate VERY much.  Don't think I don't.  Every time he has gone he has called me no less than twice from the interior of the grocery store.  He doesn't know where stuff is.  Which brand is the right one?  There is a woman who looks so much like me, he feels he is in the twilight zone.  Which flavor of pizza do I want?  After nearly 19 years of marriage, in which we have not taken each other's lives, he doesn't know what kind of pizza.  ANY KIND EXCEPT WITH FISH!!!!!!!!!  No barbecue because that is just stupid.  It's not because he doesn't know it's because he is uncomfortable with the grocery environment.
      He is intelligent, good looking and extremely talented in his chosen profession.  He is the preferred contact person on projects for the mucky mucks and the job foremen, alike.  He can do anything he sets his mind to(except possibly write something in the minimum possible number of words).  The interior of the grocery is like a foreign land (To be fair, it is a very foreign land).
     I just haven't let him keep his competitive edge when it comes to shopping.
    Now, we all remember this:





Ladies, remember that you are the only one who knows where the super suit is( you don't want anyone else helping him find his super suit).  Make sure he can find the belt and the boots when he needs them.  Let him do a little grocery shopping and laundry off and on.

It is for the greater good.

You will more than likely...Thank Me Later.