Is it too soon to get bossy? It’s probably too soon, right?
Oh, what the hay!
Last night my husband took me out to eat fried cauliflower at Roost. He is in the midst of constructing some sort of large, complex chemical plant that is demanding most of his energy and brain cells these days, so naturally, he talked about pipelines and pumps and vessels and diagrams for a good chunk of the evening.
Now I’m going to give you all one guess as to how much I understand and care about the chemical engineering world.
Zero. I understand and care zero. When Benson talks about work, it sounds like this:
So you want to know what I do when he talks like this?
“Tell him to can it?” you ask?
I nod and say uh-huh and widen my eyes and go, “Oh man!” at parts where I think it’s appropriate and even grab his arm every once in a while, shrieking, “What! That’s crazy!”
You know why?
Because marriages need stuff like that to thrive, and I want my husband to know I’m fascinated by his work life even if, I’m like, kind of not. Okay really not. (Y’all, sometimes he’ll talk for seven minutes straight and I will have understood nothing. Like not one thing.)
Sometimes it’s boring. Sometimes I’m really bad at it and accidentally start pondering whether I should switch our Labradoodle’s dog food. But when done correctly, it’s money, people.
The great part is, it costs me nothing to do this, but produces this giant boost for Benson and hence, our marriage. (Now, if he wanted me to help him construct this stupid chemical plant, that would cost me a lot (of time and brain cells) and I’d beg off claiming I’d already promised a friend to help her feed hungry children that day. But showing interest in his work? Pfsh! In the bag.)
This marriage book we have talks about how you have to be authentic. I realize my strategy here isn’t dripping with authenticity, but I’d rather it this way than what my flesh wants me to do – which is interrupt him and change the subject to whether or not expensive mascara is really worth it. So if you’d all like to sue me for being phony, I get it.
Okay, I’m done with the bossy. I promise I won’t do this every week. It won’t be, like, Bossy Mondays or anything, so come back in two days and I’ll be back to my normal humble self (stop laughing).