I was lying in bed – it may or may not have been the afternoon, I may or may not have been in my nightgown—when my husband plopped on the floor next to me and cradled our Roomba.
He turned the robot vacuum over and used a screwdriver to open its backend –which may or may not have been rude, considering our Roomba actually has a name (Stella) and, perhaps, feelings–and started yanking out her innards. He pulled out a variety of tools–a comb, a brush, and what looked like a hair scrunchy– from a mesh bag. His face was a study in concentration, like a gloved-up surgeon ready to perform a something-ectomy.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“It’s Tuesday. I am defuzzing our Roomba, of course.”
“Seriously, you have to clean the cleaner? That seems redundant and a little obsessive.”
“You didn’t know that the Roomba has to be completely de-fuzzed every week? You didn’t know I do it?”
Because I never want to forsake my reading of a good book to operate on a robot, I turned on the charm. “This is just one more thing you do to make our home run so smoothly. You just go about these tasks, never complaining, and I am just oblivious. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You know,” he said, ”you could write a blog about that.”
“Not everything you do is blog-worthy,” I replied.
In the last couple months, he’s gotten a steady stream of attention and positive reinforcement from my mostly complimentary and wry observations about him and our marriage on this blog. Now that he’s gotten a taste of notoriety, he can’t seem to get enough. He has become a publicity hound.
Yesterday, we lay down for our daily nap. There used to be a subtext to “nap.” Now it’s just a nap. He set his alarm, as he always does, for some ridiculously short and random time. “I think I’ll set it for 32 instead of 31 minutes today.” I may or may not have rolled my eyes.
“You know, you could write about that, how I set my alarm for unusual times.”
Cue: Fake snoring.
You know how these things go. If I keep writing about him, he’ll just want more, more, more.
He’ll want me to write about him matching socks fresh from the dryer while he watches FC Football. How he sets a timer to remind him to take a lap around our apartment every so often. How he stores his ancestry.com research in his sock drawer.
How, when eating out, he always asks for a carry-out box (what are those for?). That he hates cilantro, mashed potatoes, and meatloaf, and he “doesn’t care for” a host of delectable dishes like strawberry pie, macaroni and cheese, and Cool Ranch Doritos, but he will eat silk worms in Cambodia and guinea pig in Peru.
Would he really want me to write about his favorite (only) dance move– a grapevine/ball change/ twirl combination–which he demonstrates every time he hears music, whether it’s the streetcar bell, a cell phone ring tone, or a child’s rattle?
And, then, there’s his toothy grin, I could write about that, or how he never passes me without patting me on the bottom or kissing my neck. How he has never been late paying a bill, never been late coming home, but that would be boring.
The other day, he emerged from a lengthy sojourn in the bathroom and said, “You know, you could write about . . .”
“Stop!” I shouted. “I mean it, just stop! I have plenty of things to write about without resorting to your foolishness.”
“’Write what you know.’ Just sayin…” He always has to get the last word.
“I don’t know you at all!” I said, finally.
But what’s a writer to do? He is such a rich vein of golden material, I can’t not write about him—even if it is enabling his vanity. I am such a normal person, I have to look outside myself to find eccentricities to address.
“Pass the sugar,” he said at dinner tonight. Then he sprinkled a spoonful on his green beans! Who does that? Normal people put sugar on cottage cheese and tomatoes like I do, don’t they?
Then he asked, “Is your new blogpost about me?”
“It may or may not be.”
Comments
Sandy, what a gift. Husbands are a strange breed, and your honesty tickles me pink, or maybe red, pink’s not my shade. – Christine Wilson
You always brighten my day. Always make me smile and as usual always great. – Linda
Love your humor, Sandy! Really enjoyed this! – Kathleen Walmsley
I really don’t know any other person who makes me laugh out loud like you! Once again, the master of the Magic Three…a baby rattle?? I’m still laughing. The things that jump into that head of yours are a true delight. Your added edits after sharing at Saturday retreats are always perfect. – Teri Foltz
Very funny! I have to defuzz my roomba? – Brigid Almaguer
hahahaha!! This is priceless! I started laughing at the TITLE! Please keep stoking your hubby’s fire– this is hilarious stuff! – Ellen Austin-Li
Great chuckle. I needed that! You’ve done it again. So well done and the rhythm superb as usual. – Diane Germaine
Sandy, you make marriage sound fun! It’s a delight to read about someone enjoying her husband (said the woman without one). It’s like reading about life in Tibet. I don’t necessarily want to visit, but it’s entertaining to learn more about it from someone who’s happy living there. – Kate Mahar
A MAN who won’t eat meatloaf or mashed potatoes? I’m afraid, Sandy, he IS blog-worthy, many times over. Thanks for another Lingo-Laugh! Oh, did HE name S-T-E-L-L-A? You live sorta close to the “waterfront.” – Nancy Jones
Why would anyone ever want to write about me? I’m just so dull, uninteresting, . . . and blog-worthy! – Rick
LOL as always. – Beverly Bowers
Hysterical! Now if only you could capture my husband ‘s genius of using the brush I use to clean my water bottles to clean the light fixtures on the outside of our cottage. 🤢
You know if I hadn’t caught him, he would have placed it rinsed off (maybe) in the sink. – Lisabeth Kleinfeldt Kaeser
Drop everything you’ve thought about writing and give us more about your hubby. This is such funny reading — love it! – Gayle Hauser
Divine premise for a sitcom or a play. You have a way with words and an unparalleled sense of humor. You are a wonder! – Elena
This is delish, Sandy! I didn’t think I could love it anymore, then I reached the line: “I am such a normal person, I have to look outside myself to find eccentricities to address.” That put me over the top. Love it! :). – Suzanne B.
Sandy I love your style! I am also envious that your husband likes being your subject. My husband is a very private person and hates it if I even mention that I have a husband in my writing. It really stifles my writing, because at this point in my life, he IS my life . Tell yours thanks for providing you with material. Again, love this piece! – Denise
Sandy, this post was delightful! “It’s Tuesday. I am defuzzing the Roomba. Of course.” OF COURSE! Love it!! Sugar on green beans certainly is blog- worthy! – Mary
I may or may not be giggling through this entire piece, Sandy. So funny. I’m glad you’ve put your husband in his rightful place – front and center and featured on your blog. – Molly Stevens
