Monday, January 28, 2013
I have a request.
It's very girly, sexist, and I'll be honest with you...it's not very enlightened.
When something goes wrong in my house, I'm the first to admit that I'm proud that I've fixed it. But I'm going to admit something else.
I don't wanna.
I don't want to plunge the toilet. I don't want to troubleshoot the rattling in my car. I don't want to get out a ladder and change that bulb in the hall.
I'd rather close the door on that bathroom, turn up the volume on the radio, and find a flashlight.
It annoys me.
And I want a husband to fix it.
Now, I realize that I don't need a husband for these things. In fact, I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for a husband. I know I can do it myself, call a handyman, or (when desperate) make an emotional plea to one of my male neighbors.
I don't wanna.
I want that guy here who has to fix it because it's his house, too. Who notices that the light above the sink isn't working and since it's his house as well...he trots off to find the bulb, stands on a stool, and replaces it. Who plunges the toilet because it just needs to get done. Who whisks my car off to the nearest mechanic to get that rattle fixed.
And since I'm not sure I'm ready for a husband - I want this guy to do all of this without the added side effect of snoring in my ear every night.
So, basically I want a guy to just show up at my house, fix all of my shit, and go home.
Now, the only thing that might save me at this point is that there might be some widower out there who is embarrassed to admit that he wants a wife. Someone who might like to cook, who enjoys fresh flowers every once in a while, and who changes the sheets on the bed just because she knows it needs to get done.
Yikes. I'm wondering if my therapist is reading this????
Widow Chick (aka, Catherine Tidd) is the author of the memoir Confessions of a Mediocre Widow (Jan. 2014). She is also a writer for The Denver Post's Mile High Mamas and a contributor to several books on grief and renewal.