Last night I was in the living room watching TV. I heard Heather ask “Sweetheart, what would you like for dinner, chicken or steak?” I said, “Thanks Honey, I think I want steak.” She said, “You’re having a peanut butter sandwich. I was talking to the dog!”
I don’t know what it is, but I think many women prefer the company of their pets than that of their husband. I get it. The pet doesn’t argue with her or tell her the same lame jokes a thousand times. My wife will sometimes come home from work in a bad mood, which she immediately tells me and that she needs to unwind.
Then she’ll pick up one of the dogs and be as sweet as can be. I ask, “Why are you giving me the cold shoulder but you’re so sweet to the dogs?” She just looks at me in a way that sends chills up my spine. I then keep quiet. I know my place in the pecking order.
Or a friend will call her and she’ll be all happy and bubbly on the phone with her. That irritates me but I dare not complain. I’ll surely get ‘the look’ again. Don’t get me wrong, we have a great marriage and I wouldn’t trade her for anything. But she might consider it. Such is the husband’s plight. Sigh.