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How Should a Man Respond when his Wife Alphabetizes the Spices?

September 28, 2018

 

It took me by surprise the other day when my wife asked me to note the spice area and that it was alphabetized and that this should help me to know where to place the spices when I was finished with them.  I taken aback and successfully hid my surprise and visceral response with a silent nod.  The problem is that every time I go to put a spice away I now have this awful guilty feeling when I just throw the spices into the lazy susan.  I wish that I never knew the system and then I could claim a perpetual ignorance.  

 

I have thought much about this moment and have debated what would've been the best way to respond.  Here is my inner dialogue:

 

Good Guy:

My wife is a great wife. One of the best there is. Plus she puts up with a lot just being married to me for so long.  So maybe I should just buckle down and take the 5 min. to put the spice in the exact right spot.

 

Bad Guy:

But, really!  Who ever alphabetizes their spices! Even Superstore doesn't do that and they have paid employees.  The expectation is too much!

 

Good Guy:

Yes. But she is your wife and she is master of the kitchen. She cooks all your dinners.

 

Bad Guy:

Agreed. Perhaps I need to come about this the other way ... what if I start alphabetizing my

 

underwear.  Then when she puts my clothes away she'll understand how I feel.

 

Good Guy:

But then you would have to take the time alphabetize them yourself and she'd probably praise you for getting organized.

 

Bad Guy:

Yeah, good point. That'll never work.  Perhaps I could always ask the kids to put the spices away (non-nonchalantly so to speak) and then they could take the blame for not getting them in the right spot.  The children need to learn respect for authority and the importance to details.

 

Good Guy:

So do you.

 

Bad Guy:

Shut up.  I know all about authority. I just don't like stupid rules.  Plus, really, aren't I not the man of the house. Should I not just pull rank and demand all the spices be placed in a big bin. 

 

Good Guy:

Do you want to be kissed ever again?

 

Bad Guy:

Good point.  Perhaps she just don't won't notice.

 

Good Guy:

Doubt it.  She's a pretty observant wife.

 

Bad Guy:

You're right. The key is distraction.  I need a red herring. If I put the dead mouse the boys found

 

the other day in the spice rack she would jump sky high and scream. The spices would get messed up and she'd never know the difference.

 

Good Guy:
That could work, but it isn't a sustainable solution. How many dead mice do you have? Plus, I think she'd catch on.

 

Bad Guy:

I could sell all the spices and just use salt.

 

Good Guy:

You like good food.

 

Bad Guy:

True.  But there has to be away around this system! Every system has a way around it!

 

Good Guy:

Have you tried talking to her about?

 

Bad Guy:

No. I'm talking to you.

 

Good Guy:

You're talking to yourself.

 

Bad Guy:

Right.

 

Bad Guy:

But if I talk to her there are inherent risks I'd have to be willing to take.

She may come up with another torturous idea and start colour-coding our cereal and then insist I get a hair-cut.

 

Good Guy:

I agree there.  You definitely don't need a hair cut.  Talk to her.

 

Bad Guy:

Nope.  Too much risk.

 

Good Guy:

You know she'll read this blog post.

 

Bad Guy:

I know.  It's my solution to the problem.

 

I'm not sure this was helpful to any fathers out there.  And I'll let you know how it goes after I post this. 

 

pax, (I hope)

 

Kenton

 

 

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