An AHA! Moment

In my comments on yesterdays FHP Post, commenter Peter, mentioned men’s fear of buying the wrong items their wives have sent them out for. Is this some innate fear that all men have? I think it must be and I am feeling better in knowing this.

I am a low maintenance woman. I can hear that resounding, “How low maintenance are you, Bou?” Well, I am so low maintenance that on Friday, I went shopping to my favorite clothing store because they were having a big ass sale, and I bought some sweaters I’ve been in love with, and then put them in my husband’s closet and said, “I bought my birthday gifts. Just make sure you include the boys in wrapping so they can take part."

I am so low maintenance that I am way way OK with the fact he never tells me he loves me. Most women would go ape shit over it. I’ve also learned to accept the fact he doesn’t ever compliment me. I do go nutso on that every now and then, but only when he forces me to go to some company cocktail party/event I don’t want to go to (which is ALL of them) and I’ve gotten all cleaned up FOR him. Then he frickin’ OWES me a compliment, whether I look good or not. He just knows the rules…. you don’t ever compliment means you are NEVER allowed to say anything derogatory. Don’t like the new shorts I bought? Tough shit. Positive feedback when I bought I pair you did like, while I was wearing them, goes a long way. It's very simple.

I’m a kick back, jeans and a t-shirt kinda gal, no shoes, and minimal make up. You treat me nice and are respectful, you will be rewarded 10 fold. I am low low maintenance.

House decorating? I don’t know anything about it. I have no artistic inclination and decorating a house does nothing for me. I don’t see color and shape and how they go together like others are capable of doing. I am so left brained, I walk with a list to the left. My husband is very artistic and he usually picks out most of the colors. The only thing I ask is if he picks out something I have objection to that he listens. Actually, it is a demand, not a request. He has leeway to do whatever he wants, so if I have input, he better frickin’ listen because that means that for once I actually care. Other than that, he can do as he pleases… because I very rarely have input. I am low low maintenance.

We’ve been moving things around since we built on the two new bedrooms for the boys. The antique twin beds in my guest bedroom that have been handed down from generation to generation, have now been split, with each of the younger boys getting one. I decided that I would get a queen size bed in the guestroom and as good luck would have it, our local department store was having a big mattress sale. He loves to shop; I hate it. So while I ran errands with the kids, we agreed what we wanted for a mattress and then I said, “While you’re there, get 100% cotton sheets in cream, plain no pattern. Here’s a pillow case from the twin sheets, just get something that is close to that color.” There is A LOT of color in that room and I’m just trying to get everything to blend. I refuse to spend the money redecorating that room.

Two hours later, he’s not back. I ring him on his cell and he says he is just now leaving.

“Was it really crowded,” I asked?
“No. I hope you like what I got,” he replied.
Me: “Are they cream?”
Him: “Yup”
Me: “Are they 100% cotton?”
Him: “Yes.”
Me: “Are they plain, no pattern?”
Him: “Yes.”
Me: “What is there that I won’t like? You’re making me nervous.”
Him, tentatively: “I don’t know. I just hope you like them.”

I am completely confused now. How easy was this? I sent him a pillow case for color. I was very specific with my parameters, yet he is afraid I will not like them?

He gets home and I have plain cream 100% cotton queen sized sheets, exactly what I asked for.

Him: “Is this OK?:
Me, puzzled: “I so don’t get this. This is exactly what I asked for. What part of this could I not like?”
Him: “Well, it has this little lace thing at the top of the bedsheet and I was afraid you’d hate it.”
Me: “Hunhead (my pet name for him), if I cared about the top of the bedsheet, I would have told you. As long as the sheets are plain, 100% cotton and cream, I don’t care.”

Needless to say, I spent the next week wondering what type of bitch I really am if he was so nervous about frickin’ sheets. Now I know… it is a man thing.