Last Sunday as I was in the kitchen baking a cake, I watched my husband swinging a mop.
Of course, my husband noticed I was watching him.
He announced, much to my surprise, that I needn’t worry, because ever since he read in the local newspaper that he does not mop under tables, he does so now.
I smiled. Almost immediately, I had an evil thought.
What if I could get him to do things he would not normally do just by writing about them in the newspaper?
What outrageous ideas could I come up with?
The first thought was to hand over all the household chores into his now capable hands, including laundry and cooking.
I could lie around in our big chair with a good book all weekend. I would be nice and lift my feet so they would not interfere with mopping and sweeping.
Oh, what a wonderful world that would be.
Maybe I could even get him to wear a little apron and write down my lunch and dinner orders, which in turn, would be freshly prepared and served with a red rose on a silver platter.
All homework-related issues would be part of his agenda.
As a matter of fact, the kids could talk to him about everything.
Reading a book and having peace and quiet — that would be heaven — something I have not experienced in many years.
Next on the agenda would be a daily foot rub. Getting used to wearing shoes with heels after wearing flip-flops and sandals during the summer months is hard on any woman and her feet.
The interior of my truck would be vacuumed every other day, and he would start handling the nuisances of dealing with all the bills, checkbook and paperwork.
My role as unpaid secretary of the Cole household could finally come to an end. Life would be just dandy then. Don’t misunderstand — I would still do my part, which is the most important part — keeping an eye on things.
Of course, after living so many years with my spouse, I know exactly how my husband will react to reading this in the newspaper.
He will grin and say, “You know none of this is going to happen, right?”
But hey — it was nice dreaming about it.
Contact Alexandra Cole at firstname.lastname@example.org or (254) 501-7470.