In response to last month’s column, Henry Geerken has offered his column space for a rebuttal by his wife, Diane. Responses may be sent to firstname.lastname@example.org.
My husband is oh-so-clever, writing articles that sometimes involve me but I have no recourse but to grin-and-bear-it and/or put things in his soup that throws him for a loss. (Chili peppers and marbles that look like eyeballs being one option; he says he feels guilty with his soup watching him. Good!) If you are a man reading this “shame on you!”
I am a liberated woman who hasn’t burned her bra because I need it. Growing older for a woman is no picnic no less than a man.
One thing a man can’t begin to comprehend is called menopause or “the change of life.” I like my bedroom temperature at night to be around 60 to 65 degrees in the winter. My husband claims he is turning blue from cold. He exaggerates that frost is forming on his mustache. I tell him to put his mustache under the covers.
At times I have found him sleeping with a wool ski cap on his head and woolen gloves on his hands. Good for him! Deal with it.
Another thing is that Henry has no tolerance for pain. He has no concept of REAL PAIN having never given birth.
Birthing is no way close to the description of trying to push a piano through a transom window. It is far more than that. It is like pushing a piano through a transom window WHILE SOMEONE IS STILL PLAYING THE PIANO! A Duet! Standing up!
Now, Henry gets a “boo-boo” and immediately whimpers, “Dee I’m wounded.” He will cry and carry on until I get out all the bandages, gauze, tape and ointments.