Have you ever wondered what goes through your husband’s or boyfriend’s brain, especially after NCAA basketball and before Opening Day? The answer is: not much. You might also wonder how he survived before he met you, given his inability to take care of his most basic needs.
Recently, my wife Liz was called away on business for a few days. Upon leaving, she reminded me to pick up after myself, feed the dog, take out the trash, blah, blah, blah. She had one final admonition: “Don’t do anything stupid.” What kind of idiot did she take me for? Granted, there was that time I blew out my ACL playing baseball. And once I ripped out her perennial garden, thinking they were all weeds. And that time I tried to sell tickets to my daughter’s ballet in a biker bar. But other than that, my record was clear. I would show her. I would not only refrain from blowing up the house, I would actually:
(1) do the laundry, and
(2) cook food.
As I threw my white underwear and a red sweat shirt into the washer, I couldn’t help but notice my skivvies had that “lived in” look. Its threadbare fabric was faded and pulling away from the elastic waistband. It seemed like yesterday I had put on that underwear for the first time, fresh and new. I remember preening a bit in front of the bathroom mirror. Sure, I looked like a goober with love handles, support stockings, and pasty white skin. But in my new underwear, baby, I looked fine… if I didn’t say so myself.
I considered the proper way to dispose of one’s underpants. I supposed I could flush them down the toilet, but that would be an inglorious way to go. The trash can wouldn’t be any better. What if the garbage man found them? Maybe I could take a drive through the country, throw them out the window, hoping a farmer would find them and give them a good home. Nothing seemed right and proper. I prayed they would peacefully go to Underwear Heaven by simply vanishing in the lint trap.
I decided to embark on my next project without wifely help: cooking. In doing so, I created a whole new recipe. I call it my “Five Step Kale Surprise.”
INGREDIENTS: Two cups of finely chopped kale, one pound of morel mushrooms, 2 tablespoons of extra-extra virgin olive oil, pinch of sea salt, one can of Chef Boyardee Spaghetti-O’s.
DIRECTIONS: (1) Throw away the kale. Kale tastes like crap.
(2) throw away remaining ingredients,
(3) except keep can of Spaghetti-O’s,
(4) open it,
(5) eat over sink. Wash down with can of beer.
A gourmet cook like me can run out of fresh ideas after a day or two. That’s why the next nights I ordered out. A few days later, my wife got home. She was pleased to see there was not a crater where the house used to be, the laundry was done, and I had not starved to death.
But why was I wearing pink underwear?