Wife-ly

Did you guys ever watch the show “King of Queens?” I love that show. It makes me laugh, and it causes J and I talk about things we might not otherwise talk about, because much of it is about marriage.

It’s also all reruns so I’m a little behind the times. (Like usual!) I don’t watch much TV, usually only hockey, but since King of Queens is a late night rerun, we sometimes watch an episode before bed.

Last night’s episode was about Carrie, the wife, not being “wife-ish” enough. Doug (the husband) sees his coworker’s wife bring him a warm coat and soup and bake a homemade cake for a church bake sale, and feels sad that his wife doesn’t do those things for him. He sets her up to bake a cake for the sale and she buys one instead. He says they CANNOT bring a store bought cake and he declares her not “Wife-ly. Wife-ish. Wife-like”.

She makes some valid points in her argument that ends with, “I have a full time job.”

I looked at J. Scooched up closer to his ear.

“Are you secretly sad that I’m not wife-ly enough?”

I kissed him on the cheek.

“You cook,” he said.

This is true, but was not always true. I cook dinner now because when I am done working all I have to do is walk out of my office and I’m home. No night time traffic commute to delay my arrival by two hours. Even though I like to cook, I did not like having to walk in the door after a long, stressful drive home and get chopping on dinner. Cooking is something I’ve been able to do for maybe the last five years, and even then only when I feel like it.

“I wrapped some presents for you last week,” I added.

“Yes, you did.”

He kissed me on the forehead.

One time over this last summer J said jokingly to the neighbors up north who are in their late sixties, “She doesn’t even do my laundry.”

I looked up to see them both looking at me, waiting for an explanation. Ironically, I was at that moment cooking our breakfast on the porch.

“We each do our own,” I offered, “I think because we were grown ups when we met.”

They nodded and accepted that answer even though it clearly confused them.

“I made you a sandwich yesterday for lunch!” Then, (GASP), “I forgot to make one for tomorrow.”

“I can make my own sandwich,” J answered, and I abandoned thoughts of getting out of bed to do it. Yes, he can make his own sandwich, I thought, but he probably won’t because he won’t have time which is why I like to do it sometimes. Also, I like to write him cute notes for his lunch.

Doug and Carrie are still without a homemade cake for the bake sale, even after trying to bake one together, but Doug still refuses to allow a store bought cake. They have settled on a frosted cake shaped couch pillow and a plan that Doug will buy the fake cake.

“You make crazy cake,” J added.

Mmmm, crazy cake, we both said.

“Not for a while,” I replied, snuggling in and closing my eyes.

So today I baked a chocolate crazy cake. Because I’m wife-ly, damn it.