Somewhere along the line, during the process of growing up, little boys and little girls get a picture in their heads of how it’s going to be. This picture is based on, and usually a reaction to what they see around them as they grow up. If they see something that they relate as being good, their little minds say, that’s how it should be. If they see something that they interpret as not so good, their little minds say it shouldn’t be like that. It should be different, and thus a contrary picture is formed as to how it should be. We all came through life with these little pictures in our heads. Many of these pictures have to do with our grown up relationships. Boys and Girls alike come to their adult relationships, including marriage, with presuppositions—pictures—based on what they grew up with. When these pictures clash or just fail to develop in reality (pun intended) is when problems start to arise. You see, the expectations that these pictures produce—and how they are met or not met—become in many cases tests of love. He opens the door for me—he loves me. She cooks me breakfast on Saturday morning—she loves me. He brings me flowers—she loves me. She irons my clothes—she loves me. He carries out the trash . . . . Wait, did I just say, “he carries out the trash?” Yes I did. Can carrying out the trash honestly be seen by anyone as a test of love? To answer that question, yes it can. I have tried to deny it, argue with it, ration with it and just plain push it aside for many years, but in the little girl mind of my wife is the picture of a man happily carrying out the trash, and that picture equals love.
Now I don’t want anyone who reads this to think that my wife is weird or petty. Of course, concerning the trash issue, I used to think she was until today. My wife is no different than any of the rest of us. We all grew up with these pictures. Some healthy, some unhealthy, and some benign, but we all grew up with them. This just happens to be one of the strongest for my wife, and like I said, I didn’t fully realize it until today. I got it after a stressful morning discussion spurred by a political ad on TV.
So, here’s the scene. I’m just a few minutes out of bed, barely working on my first cup of coffee when a political commercial comes on the television during the morning news. In this commercial, our state’s current Senator is trying to show that he is just an every day guy. His wife addresses the camera concerning her husband while he messes around in the background with a cup of coffee. At the end, she asks him to take out the trash. The bone head (who is NOT getting my vote, now) answers in a cheerful Father Knows Best voice, “I’ve got it honey!” Geeze, you can almost hear the 50’s sitcom music playing in the background. I am fighting back a gag reflex when my wife pipes up and says something to the effect of, “I wish you would do that just once.”
Of course, my response is, “I carry out the trash all the time.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.”
So, like I haven’t ever stepped right into an open bear trap before, I ask, “Well, what are you talking about?” SNAP!!!
It wasn’t all that bad, really. Since I have been here before, I knew what to do. After a lot of gnawing, I was able to escape with my life. What’s one less foot anyway?
Actually, it didn’t really get that far. Her point was, I “don’t ever” (in my defense translate that “seldom”) do anything she asks with a joyful Robert Young/Ward Cleaver response, “Yes dear, I’d love too.” According to her memory, I either ignore the request, argue about it, or when I do accommodate her, I give some smart alek response. Of course I argued the point to the full extent of my wakefulness, but I was finally able to convince her I was unarmed, not having had at least one full cup of coffee, yet. We did talk for a short bit later, and she tried to convince me she really wasn’t that upset. She tried to say that she was just joking based on the commercial. That’s her story, now, and she’s sticking to it, but I have learned a few things, having lived with one woman for almost 35 years. I have learned that there are looks that speak louder than words and these looks aren’t always the angry ones. She doesn’t realize it but I saw one of those looks this morning. This particular look was that of a little girl whose picture of how it should be had just faded away to be replaced by a reality that is not so picturesque. Somehow in her mind, the picture of a husband pleasantly, if not joyfully carrying out the trash is how it should be, and when he does it, it means “he loves me.”
Like I said, I have carried out the trash many countless time in our married life. I mow the lawn. I fix the cars. I cook many of our meals. I am admittedly a challenge to live with, but I do a number of things in my own way and my own time—sometimes without even being asked! But in many ways she is right.
So where does all of this lead? In the past we have argued about whose job it is to take out the trash. As far as I’m concerned, when it comes to chores, taking out the trash is at the top of the gender neutral list. Any man, woman, or even gender challenged person should take out the trash if it is in need of out taking. I finally realized today, however that it means much more to my dear wife. In some odd way, it means love. Me joyfully taking out the trash means everything is the way it should be. That’s sort of a weird concept to me. I’ve tried to show my wife that I love her ever since I met her. Being a guy, it usually meant something physical, but I’ve tried other things too. Gifts, flowers, etc., some hitting the mark, some not, but I have honestly tried. Also, being a guy, I am constantly amazed at what truly means love to her.
So, like I said, she’s no different than any of the rest of us. We all have these pictures in our heads. These pictures were taken when we were small and they slowly developed over time. These pictures aren’t always of reality, but they represent a reality to us. We have them and from them grow expectations and tests of love that we put on other people, especially those closest to us. As far as my wife’s picture concerning the trash goes, I don’t see it as too unhealthy, so I’ve made a choice. I’m going to live that picture out for her and help her fulfill her vision of how it should be. So, dear, from now on, whenever you ask me to take out the trash, my answer will be, “sure, honey, I’d love to,” or at the very least, “as you wish.”
Besides, I’m running out of feet to gnaw off.
ST
