'Man Rules' in Story Form

A delightful marital vignette which will be recognized by most married men. Stolen, whole, from Jewish World Review. Written by Kurt Wilson, a 20-year-veteran of marriage.

Yesterday I awoke at my usual early hour and, as always, lurched towards the kitchen to make coffee. But what started out as a routine morning changed abruptly. The Lady of the House was already sitting at the kitchen table. I took it as a warning. She usually has the good sense to make me get up first so that a hot cup of Java awaits her the moment her peepers open. She was immersed in a women's magazine and held a pencil in her right hand.

"Uh huh, uh huh," she repeated while furiously marking the pages. I knew better than to ask and set about measuring water and coffee grounds.

You know what the big difference is between women's magazines and men's magazines? If you guessed pictures of scantily clad beautiful women you're wrong. Their magazines are full of them with headlines such as "Get a Bikini Body by Swim Season". No, the difference is questionnaires. Women's magazines are brimming with them. Their covers trumpet "Are You a Shopaholic? Take our quiz!" It's a wonder psychologists stay in business.

I'd just got to the point where brown splashes were falling into the pot when she looked up from her task and said, "I'm getting an epiphany."

"Really?" I said, "What kind of gas mileage does it get?"

"Cute. An epiphany is a sudden insight and I'm betting a person who does crossword puzzles every day already knew that."

She was right. I was trying to sidetrack the conversation because when she'd turned her attention on me she was wearing The Look. It always warns me I'm about to get got. For once I had the wisdom not to ask what she was talking about, but it did no good.

"Don't you want to know what I've discovered?"

"Better to let sleeping dogs lie," I replied.

"You have HAD,"

"I have had what?'

"No, you have HAD. Capital H, capital A, capital D."

I could see it would do little good to refrain from asking what on Earth she was talking about and so complied.

"HAD stands for Husband Attention Deficit."

I couldn't resist. "So, that means I'm not getting enough attention?"

"Nice try," she said. "It means you suffer from an inability to pay sufficient attention when I'm talking to you."

"Well," I thought, "I can go along with this to a point, but I don't get the part about suffering."
"But YOU took the quiz," I said, "Did it occur to you that if I answered the questions for myself it would yield a very different conclusion?"

"Precisely. That's why I took it for you."

At this moment I had an epiphany of my own. I realized engaging in evasive banter would get me nowhere. It was time to react as a mature adult male. So, I stuck my right index finger in my right ear and my left index finger in my left ear. Rocking my head from side to side I began chanting, "I can't hear you! I can't hear you!"

The Lady of the House just rolled her eyes. Twenty years of marriage have taught me that sometimes the best defense is a truly offensive offense.