Having been married for quite a few years, I feel it’s my civic duty to give a pointer now and then about relationships to all three of my regular readers. The marital status of you loyal fans is irrelevant, as I’m offering free advice for free, so stop whining.
I had written the first draft of my homage to St. Patty’s Day, and asked my wife to give it a read and see what she thought of it. This woman is no stranger to me (obviously) and certainly no stranger to reading. She plows through books constantly in what most would consider to be a thinly veiled attempt at avoiding having to speak with me any more often than absolutely necessary. She seemed like the perfect person for the job. Plus, she was sitting right over there.
My standard way of writing these masterpieces is to just spew every word and thought I have out onto this virtual paper. Then I go back and filter through it, taking out redundancies and dead sentences and trying to make it flow. My St. Patty’s Day piece was created in much the same way. I had put it through the distillation process several times (alcohol-related pun intended – I’m just so clever) and thought that it was ready for a critical eye.
My expectation was that my wife would read it, stopping only to chuckle or dab the tears of laughter out of her beautiful eyes. She would finish it, shaking her head in amazement at my creativity and savvy with the word-thingies. She would pronounce it hysterical and ready for print.
She did read it, but there wasn’t a single guffaw the whole way through. She did shake her head, but it was in more of a dismissive “I can’t believe you made me read that crap!” kind of way. She proclaimed it “wordy” and suggested I cut out at least half of it.
I’m sure she meant well, but it still hurt.
If your child showed you a picture they drew, would you tell them that they need to work on their shading and composition? Of course not! You’d praise their incredible talent and put that hideous mess of crayon and marker right up on the fridge with the rest of their body of work. If your wife asked whether a particular outfit made her ass look fat, would you say yes? Of course not! You’d tell her that the garment which is capable of making her ass look fat has yet to be invented, then you’d politely ask her to move her tiny derriere out from in front of the TV, as it looks like the Ducks might be going for it on 4th down.
So, when your ruggedly handsome, hard-working husband finally stops playing poker on the computer and looking at smut, deciding to write a blog instead, be thankful. Then, when he asks you your opinion of what he’s written, try one of the following:
1) I LOVE IT!
2)You’re a genius!
3) Don’t quit your job to do this full time, it just wouldn’t be fair to those poor authors who don’t have the other marketable job skills that you possess.
4) Did you steal this from David Sedaris?! It’s just so witty!
5) I think it’s great, Sweetie. I’m going to put it right here on the fridge next to your drawings!
That wasn’t so hard now was it?