The Secret Life of Wives (May Humor Story)

Note: I had to post this early because I am going to BYU Women's Conference! Hooray! Come and visit me from 1:30-3:30 at the BYU bookstore for a signing! This story is a sample from one of the thirty stories in "Confessions of a Completely Insane Mother" Enjoy!

Danger lies hidden in every seemingly solid marital relationship. Watch out! Disaster may be lurking just around the corner. You never know when it's about to strike!

The relationship trouble usually hits when the husband leaves town for more than a week at a time. The wife looks around at the unpainted stairwell, sighs over the cracked cement, and lingers longingly over pictures in magazines: pictures of what could have been. The pictures inspire a seed of desire which grows, secretly in her heart until the husband comes home, utterly unaware, and totally shocked to find out that while he was gone, his wife has found a new persona...one he has never seen before. She has become......handy.

My own husband found this out when he came home from work one day to find me drilling holes in all of the window frames of our house.

"What in heaven's name is going on around here?" he asked, dropping his newspaper when he saw the maniacal gleam in my eye.

"Honey!" I said with excitement, my cheeks flushed. "I never knew how fun this "thingy" could be. You can make a hole in just about anything, except bricks...I tried it and broke one of your bits, sorry."

"Thingy?" he replied, his face turning white. "That is a very expensive automatic drill. What are you doing drilling holes in all of our wood?"

"I'm fixing up the house!" I replied, laughing. "I saw a picture of some shelves in a magazine, and suddenly I realized, 'I can do that!"

I paused, waiting for a reaction. Seeing nothing but closed eyelids and deep breathing, I continued, "In other words, great news! You don't have to do "fix-it" jobs EVER again! I can do them myself. In fact, I am going to remodel our whole kitchen!"

"Remodel our kitchen?" my husband screeched. He stopped and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. Then he put a gentle hand on my arm.

"Darling," he said, "Do you know what is involved in remodeling a kitchen? The cost alone...!"

"Cost, schmost!" said I, waving the drill in the air. My husband jumped away when I accidentally pushed the trigger in his face. "We are going to do all of the work ourselves, so it won't cost much at all!"

His eyes narrowed, "What do you mean "we?"

I sighed. "Don't get all testy...I'll do most of the work, but you can carry the heavy stuff. You'll be the grunt labor."

He grunted. "Gee thanks. But hon! Honestly people train for years, they have to become apprentices to learn how to do all that stuff..."

"Not me!" I say, sticking the drill proudly in the holster of my tool belt. "Check out our bedroom window."

Again, the color drained from his face. He walked slowly to our room, like a man assigned to the gallows. Then he stopped and stared silently at the huge lumps behind the closed curtains, his jaw dropping, when I opened them up with a flourish.

He coughed. "Our window? You put shelves in our window?"

"Yep! I did all eight of them while the baby was sleeping."

He gulped. "But why? Eight shelves in one window? Why would you do such a thing?"

"Tomatoes."

My husband gave me a blank stare.

I sighed. "You know. I want to grow tomatoes from seed. We didn't have enough space in our window for the pots."

"But," he sputtered, "We can't even sit up in our bed without hitting our heads...how are we going to..."

"No worries!" I said, lifting the drill out of its holster and revving it a few times. "I noticed you had a "saw thingamajig" in your tool box! The legs to the bed are my next project."

I squinted at him, "Honey are you okay? Your face looks a little--purple."

"I'm fine," he said, holding a fist to his chest. His voice sounded strangled.

"Good. Because I want to show you how I fixed the broken crib. You know what they always say..."

"No...I don't," said my husband, rubbing a wrinkle in his forehead.

"With a little know-how and a lot of duct tape..." I grinned, "Nothing's impossible!”

That's when my husband fainted. And so...husbands beware. Don't let this happen to you. Get all those "honey-do" lists done before you leave town. And NEVER leave a home repair manual lying around where just anybody can read it....Especially if it's sitting next to a roll of duct tape.