Uh Oh!

Alright. Mea Culpa. I have committed the age-old blunder of dull husbandry, namely I have asserted that I am privileged to be able to go alone to the woods for the purpose of writing. I knew (ever so dimly) that I was making a mistake when I typed that sticky little phrase.

I am now doomed. "Why don’t I just marry my dog?" writes one commentator. Yes, I appear to have been exulting about my Hemingway-esque "men without women" position here in the woods.

It does no good of course to try to extricate myself from this grievous blunder by means of mere rhetoric. There is no hope for me. If I told my readers that I fervently wish that my wife was able to be here with me, well, you know, as they like to say in Arkansas: "That dog won’t hunt."

So okay. We’re back to the dog thing. "The Queen" wants to know why I don’t just marry the dog.

The real answer of course is that if I married the dog then I would have to wear the dog’s harness. This should be fairly evident to any amateur student of marriage, no matter what kind of matrimonial view that student might hold. Everyone knows that "the one who is the husband" is "the one who wears the harness" and there’s a considerable amount of literature on this subject. I recommend Honore de Balzac’s famous "Manual of Marriage" but you could consult more contemporary sources if you like.

There’s only one harnessed creature in our nuclear family and it’s the dog. Things are going to stay that way.

As for protestations that I’d like to have Connie here with me, consider this: I bought the cottage and the wind surfer that’s sitting under the house solely for the mutual enjoyment of man and wife. Oh, but with teenagers at home it’s been ever so difficult for us to actually be here at the same time.

And as for the teenagers, who are lovely people, well they don’t really like to come here because "there’s nothing to do" which is of course the point of going to the woods in the first place.

And as for me: I know I’ll never get out from under the gravity of my flip and uncomprehending but mostly iddy biddy slip because as everyone knows, there are no iddy biddy slips in the game of matrimonial Scrabble.

I’m doomed alright.

"I will NOT wear that harness!"

SK

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University

0 thoughts on “Uh Oh!”

  1. To TheQueen: Good point you’ve got there. I’d also like to know how that “she made me” concept works. It’s been suggested on occasion that I “made him do it”…apparently I’m capable of yielding power I didn’t know I had.
    Until now that is – right blue girl?
    Oh yes. This is going to be fun!

    Like

  2. There was this Yahoo story written by this single guy: “11 Things Women Don’t Know About Men” or something like that. One of the things was that there should be a statute of limitations on the iddy biddy slip ups that men make from time to time.
    He suggested 24 hours.
    I laugh! Ahahahahahahahaha.
    Ha.
    As an experienced married man, I think your “I’m doomed alright” remark really speaks to the reality of the situation.
    Have fun, Connie!

    Like

  3. I disagree – I know no husbands who wear the harness. I just had the following interchange with my Gary:
    Him: “Could you believe my sister Karen won’t let her husband lsiten to the car radio because she thinks it will distract him?”
    Me: “Explain to me this ‘won’t let him’ concept. How does that work, exactly?”

    Like

  4. Oh dear hubby, let us not forget we have several Labrador sized “training collars” around here and I know how to use them! Prepare to grovel!

    Like

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