Sweeping the dining room and kitchen floors just now (yeah, I really know how to celebrate on my day off) I remembered something that happened a couple of weeks ago.
The Husband was home for a short weekend, and I was sweeping that day, too. Strangely, a couple of hunks of broken glass showed up in the dust pan. The Husband had been gone all week, and neither Middle Sister nor I had broken any glass for a long, long time.
As I wondered aloud where on earth the glass had come from, The Husband said gravely, “You know, when you break glass you really have to sweep it all up very carefully and immediately.” Not a hint of a joke in his voice.
Luckily, I was in a good mood that day. I did not whack him upside the head with the broom while shrieking, “How old you you think I am, anyway?!?”
I confined myself to a chuckle and “I can’t believe you think you needed to say that.”
Being pretty good at recognizing when his life could possibly be in danger, he was immediately sheepish and contrite.
I think I know where that ridiculous statement came from. He’s away most of the time, and he worries about what will happen when there’s an “emergency” or a repair that needs to be done urgently – and he’s unable to be here to take care of it. Not an excuse, quite, for accusing me of not knowing that broken glass should be swept up.
But after almost 30 years of marriage, I can let it go. This time.