I have an old friend who sometimes lets his alligator mouth overload his BB size brain. This usually happens when he is talking to his spouse. I would think by now he would know better, but he doesn’t.
When you’ve been married for several decades, there are lots of things that you think you know but really forget that you know. That describes my friend Lowell. He and his wife have a married daughter and two grandchildren, so he is old enough to know better.
Six men in our group months ago planned a fishing trip for March 30-31. The brother-in-law of one of the men is getting married Saturday and the man’s wife indicated he would be at the wedding, not fishing on an Ozark trout stream.
He canceled his plans for fishing, noting that as a physician he has witnessed many husbands who had to make unscheduled trips to a hospital emergency room after not following their wife’s suggestions.
Lowell’s wife reminded him that their granddaughter had a dance recital scheduled on Saturday. Lowell said if he had every been told about the recital he would have put it on the calendar on his iPhone. Since the only note on his calendar that day involved fishing, he would probably be going fishing.
Lowell, who is very organized and puts everything on his calendar, should have just mumbled “Yes, dear.”
Lowell engaged his alligator mouth at this point, saying that when his wife asks for his opinion on something, she doesn’t really want his opinion unless his opinion happened to be the same as hers.
“Most of the time when my wife asks my opinion, she just really wants me to validate her opinion,” Lowell explained in an email. “It is really strange since she usually tells me that I don’t know what I’m talking about.”
Lowell managed to keep digging his hole a bit deeper. While driving his wife to supper one recent evening, she read him the dance recital schedule. The granddaughter’s first performance was at 10 a.m., with a second at 2 p.m. The awards ceremony was at 10 p.m.
For the fathers and grandfathers of girls who sign up for dance, it is spring and time for recitals in some dark, drafty auditorium in a city at least 100 miles from home. It is part of a dark conspiracy of the dance teachers.
Lowell informed his wife that he didn’t want to sit and watch people that he don’t know dance for five hours, then wait seven more hours for the awards ceremony.
His wife became upset, Lowell said, when he reminded her they went through the same demented schedule when their daughter took dance lessons several decades ago.
She really became angry when he said the U.S. Supreme Court had ruled recently that dance recital awards ceremonies constituted cruel and inhumane punishment.
He has since canceled appearing for fishing this weekend. He mumbled something about being shunned by his wife, daughter and granddaughter. What hurt the most, he said, was his granddaughter asking him to return the cup she gave him last year engraved with the words “World’s Greatest Grandpa.”
If he had learned to mumble he could have avoided this disaster. Women fight dirty.
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Larry Fugate is a veteran journalist and former editor of The Pine Bluff Commercial. He can be reached by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org or at (870) 329-7010.