The Metaphor of Husband
Wed., January 11, 02:00 PM
Often, when I’m depressed or frustrated, I write pages upon pages of stuff that is simply not worth publishing. Most of it gets discarded, but sometimes I keep it for a while, in the hope of finding some nugget of wit or wisdom. From these ramblings emerged “The Metaphor of Husband.”
Last Friday was Husband’s seventy-eighth birthday. It has become very difficult to buy gifts for him, since he no longer does much of anything. When he used to record all the movies he liked, I thought it was kind of useless – he never watches them again – but a package of new eight-hour tapes made a good present. He doesn’t do that any more. Well, what about a good DVD? He really wanted “Band of Brothers,” and the boxed set has been sitting in its original wrapper for two years – or is it three? U.D. bought him lottery tickets for Hanukkah, and he liked that but asked her to scratch them off for him. He won $4; he thinks he’s ahead.
If you ask him what he’d like, he always says “horsesh1t and bananas.” So U.D. says, “let’s get him that – some gooey chocolate dessert and fresh bananas on top.” We bought a single serving dessert and one banana; he likes bananas, but if I buy more than one, there will be rotten bananas in my house, because he’s “saving it.”
When he made his Friday appearance, U.D. presented him with his “horsesh1t and bananas.” He laughed; he liked the joke. But “don’t give it to me now, I’m not in the mood.”
That single incident describes him completely. There really isn’t any pleasing him. On Tuesday he finally ate the banana – on his cereal. He likes chocolate, but it looks as if U.D. and I will either eat that dessert ourselves or throw it out.
I think it was the first time in thirty-seven years that I didn’t make his favorite meatloaf. What’s the point? He doesn’t appreciate the extra effort. “So what can I eat?” “What do you want? Whenever I make something, you don’t want it. Do you want something hot? Do you want something cold? What?”
And he says, “ya got any bologna?” Well, of course I do; he goes almost ballistic if I don’t buy some every time I go to the store. (Even a department store!) But I had also bought some sliced turkey, just in case. Turkey on a roll satisfied him just as much as if I’d spent all afternoon on my kickass meatloaf.
As I said, what is the point? I can buy him new clothes, but he won’t wear them. I can provide soft fluffy towels and clean sheets, but he won’t use them. He ordered me out of the room last time I tried to change his bed linen; I will have to sneak in sometime…
We have one card left to play. Our son plans to be married in the fall, and he fully expects to stuff Husband into a tuxedo to be part of the wedding party. It’s a long shot, but Son is special. If this doesn’t spark some interest in the old man, nothing ever will.
It's like carrying around a heavy weight...
