Sunday, July 29, 2012

The woman is always right...

...even if she's wrong, she's right. Always. So far my Beloved has only learned the basics of his training and has learned to say, "Yes Dear" whenever he seems uncertain of what should be said. It's a start but there's still a way to go. Sunday is church day. Beloved hasn't yet cottoned on to the idea that Sunday is not sleep in day. Sunday is the day that we have to be out of the front door in order to be somewhere at a certain time. He works hard during the week so I suppose a lie in wouldn't do him too much harm once in a while. What isn't good for his health however, is when he slips out the door, backs out the car and toots impatiently after I've been organizing kids and had to chase him out of the shower (I think he rather enjoyed that). Today I warned him in no uncertain terms that this would NOT be happening.

It happened.

So today was as good a time as any to teach this man a lesson in husbandly etiquette. As I made my way to the car I *politely* expressed my annoyance. The correct response should have been "Sorry Dear. You're right. It was very rude of me. I shan't let it happen again".
I NEED to get one of these for Beloved!
He laughed. That was his mistake.

"I am NOT getting in this car with YOU. I would rather WALK!" There. That should show him I mean business. NOW he would tell me he was sorry and start grovelling for me to get in the car so we could get to church on time.

He laughed again. Oh crap. Now I have to start walking.
Husbands are very much like children. One must carry through with a threat for them to be properly trained. So I started walking.
 Any minuted now he's going to pull up beside me and BEG me to get in the car.
Sure enough, Beloved stopped the car..."Get in!"
 What? That's not begging. That's a command!  So I thrust my double A chest out, threw my nose in the air and waved him on. HE DROVE OFF!!!

So Plan A had fallen to pieces. Fortunately, since Church is a 4.5km walk uphill, I had a Plan B. My friend R lives just around the corner and she's always late for church...except for today.

Plan C: Start walking. This is when I became immensely grateful that I was wearing my Chuck Taylors - only the coolest shoes ever.

Plan C had a hitch. The main route and the church are separated by a motorway. There is a bridge crossing the motorway...and I am scared of heights.
 I spent a good 40 minutes psyching myself up but when I saw it my fears took over. To be fair, this was NOT part of Plan A or Plan B. I crossed the road. I crossed the road again. I started to cry. I texted R to subtly let her know where I was. Knowing my phobia, she kindly offered to come and get me. Of course I assumed (wrongly) she'd read between the lines when I replied "No".

So I was stuck at the bridge, too scared to cross. I contemplated turning back and actually said out loud: "Well, I guess only God can rescue me now". And then...God reminded me that He likes me. I have lived in Rewa for 25 years and never knew that there was a walkway under the bridge (probably because it was only built two years ago). I don't have an actual photo of this walkway, but to me it looked something like this:
I'm pretty sure I heard the Hallelujah Chorus as I made my way along the golden path in the complete opposite direction to church (hey, it got me on the other side of that Bridge of Horror and I was able to get back onto the right street eventually).

I got to church. I was a little (a LOT) late. I was tired. My feet hurt. But I still had the last word when I saw Beloved, "Well? Have you learned your lesson?"

He laughed. I didn't.

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