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With all these insanely annoying things he does, are a few adorable things which make me overlook the madness, stop pulling at my hair, and go aawwwhh.
I believe in Newton’s Laws, even though I hated physics growing up. This particular law somehow stuck in my mind. Why, you may ask? It comes into the picture almost daily in my married life. All I need is a catalyst called, ‘the husband’.
Allow me to give you eight examples as to how Newton’s Law works in a marriage! Ok, you’ve forgotten the Law?
Newton’s third Law of Motion: ‘For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.’
I have toiled in the kitchen for hours and finally, put the food on the table. Hubby dearest walks in and I, lovingly, pile his plate with tandoori chicken, matar paneer and potatoes and ask him to taste.
“Everything looks a bit oily na….there is a doctor who advises not to use oil in cooking, and says we can make delicious food without needing oil,” and he continues to eat.
Me in my head: I cook food three times a day, six days a week (Sunday is off as we order food home and relax), that’s eighteen meals a week! For five years of my life! You don’t give me any ‘oil zyada hai’ crap Mr. Masterchef who has never set foot in the kitchen!
“Whoever this doc is, why don’t you find him and eat at his place?”
“I was just saying…..,”
“You have said enough….eat your food!”
I call (read yell) that food is served and put EVERYTHING on the table, from water, glasses, piping hot chicken curry, ghee rice and kheer. My stomach is growling with hunger, and I patiently wait for my pati parmeshwar to get his ass on the table. It’s got nothing to do with Indian traditions mind you…. that a wife should eat after the hubby or that kind of theory. It’s just that I find it romantic to share meals with him.
My yell to him, to get to the table, is his cue to go to the washroom. And he is really fast at doing things, please note the sarcasm here; all the food is warm instead of hot by the time he parks his butt on the chair.
Me, this time not in my head, “Do you do it on purpose to infuriate me?”
“Do what?” The clueless individual questions back irking me more.
“Don’t answer my question with another question!” I fume.
“Why are you so angry… food looks yummy can we dig in?” And he starts to serve us both. My anger deflates almost instantly… and I send a prayer heavenward that the oil was not mentioned. If not I would turn from demure wife to ice queen in seconds.
I scream from the kitchen, “Dinner is almost ready.” It’s my way of saying go to the washroom now! So that I don’t lose my cool once dinner is served.
But a few seconds later I find him in the kitchen. “Where is dinner?” I count to ten before I turn around. “I said dinner is almost ready. It will take a few more minutes.”
“The last time I came late to the table, you went crazy. Now I am early, and you’re still mad! Is there no way to put a smile on your face?” He cajoles, his hands slipping to my waist and massaging my shoulders. I immediately get the hint. “You could make the remaining two rotis,” I suggest, choking on my laughter. In seconds the hands disappear and I am alone to finish up dinner preps.
I find him sitting on the sofa and looking at our mini garden on the balcony. His phone is on the table and there is absolute silence in the room. “What are you doing?” I ask him as he is sitting like that for almost an hour, while I am browsing the net and chatting on WhatsApp.
“Nothing,” he replies.
“You have to be doing something! Are you thinking?”
“No.”
“Humming a tune in your head?”
“No,”
“Sleeping?”
“I have my eyes open!”
“What do you mean by nothing!”
“Just nothing dear!”
“Are you hiding things from me now? Or do you think I am so stupid and don’t want to share your thoughts?”
“Summi, I am doing NOTHING. As in I am not thinking, not sleeping, not hiding. JUST NOTHING! He storms out of the room.”
Me in my head: Men are stupid.
When my hubby watches television or does any other work, his full attention is on that one thing. He becomes deaf, dumb and blind to everything else around him.
Like calling his name, he won’t look, clang vessels to get his attention….nothing happens! Dance naked around the house (probably not a good idea),… but you get the point. Multitasking is not a word in his dictionary. This again makes me furious as I am the bang opposite. I am already thinking of the next thing on my to-do list while cooking three different things on the stove and listening to music. This leads to innumerable arguments!
His idea is…. we are dressed, put on some shoes and let’s go!
My idea of going out is, I plan, plan and plan! Where we are going, when do we leave, when do we come back. Pack snacks for the kid. The kinda clothes depend on the place we go to. But the answer I get when asked is, “the place we are going to is…, right side!”
The last time we went right side we ended up at Waterworld. All went into the water whereas I fumed as I had my period! When we argued about it. His logic was I always change the plan.
Now how do you explain to husbands that sometimes changing plans is not a luxury but necessary?
It’s Valentine’s Day, let’s watch a movie together, he suggests. I am all in for a romantic night.
We make the kid sleep early and have a romantic dinner on our balcony. Then he puts on a movie, I cozy up to him and then my mood turns to mush in seconds. Ong Bak 2 is playing on a sixty-inch flat screen. If you’re wondering that there is a typo in place of a movie then let me explain to you, it’s a Thai action movie where we read the subtitles in English to understand the movie. And do note I have written, Ong Bak 2…. yes he has made me watch Ong Bak 1 too.
Me, in my head: my hubby has a romance quotient of a dung beetle!
And that’s how our romantic night ends. He glued to the screen and me cursing at first but later sleeping on his lap.
Then there is always the comparison with the MIL….mom makes this so yum, mom ko call karke recipe lo na plzzzzzz…
“Why don’t you go stay at your mom’s place for a few months. Problem solved.”
Hence, Newton’s 3rd Law proved.
Like when I am sick, he is with a pill and a glass of water. Taking care of me like a baby.
Or when he wakes up at night to check if the baby and I are warmly tucked under the blanket.
Or the way he tiptoes out of the room so that we don’t wake up after a late night.
Or that one day every month is date night. Yes, we watch anything but romance, but I still look forward to sleeping on his lap and feel warm and fuzzy inside when he carries me to our bed and tucks me in.
So I would like to say, even though he drives me crazy. He is the best hubby in the world. And with all the arguments and the verbal contests come these insanely tender moments which make life worth living. Each argument becomes a milestone, a memory. And with these memories comes a name who made each memory matter in the most lovable of ways.
His name means light. And yes he is my guiding light, my sun and my moon. Love you hubby dearest. Thank you for being, “you,” the perfectly imperfect you…. and for loving the imperfectly perfect me.
Dear readers, if my writing put a smile on your face can you please click the heart or leave a comment. Your feedback makes my day. Thank you.
Image source: Six Sigma Films/ YouTube
Dentist by day, Writer by night. There are a million stories that need to be told, smiles to be achieved, tears to be shared. Lives to be touched and justice to be served. I wanna read more...
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