Can You Hear This?

I thought, at one time, only someone who had survived divorce could appreciate story like this but I’ve since learned you don’t have to be divorced to “know” what I’m talking about.

To truly appreciate all that will follow, I have to tell you about some of my very bestest friends. They are lovely girls, and all have certain charming eccentricities as is common among Southern women. They are all bright and learned in various subjects, bless their hearts, the exception, of course, being their occasional choices in men. (Not that I have any room to brag!)

We have all been pals for many moons. Following the demise of our marriages to the fathers of our children, we found, when we compared notes, that they were very similar in some ways. We asked ourselves then and since what we ever saw in them but haven’t found any truly great answer. (What can seem absolutely brilliant at 20, is often known to be blatantly stupid at 40……………….but such is life!)

Now there were obvious differences between our erstwhile husbands, yet in some instances they seemed to be like “peas in the same pod”. They shared a particularly significant similarity. It was an unexplainable belief in the superiority of their intellect as it compared, in their minds, to ours, their wives and, often, the rest of you mere mortals. They didn’t quite grasp that we never saw them in the same “light” as they saw themselves, so to speak!

So, seeing as how they believed they were far smarter than we were, the following excerpts from the annals of our history with them, became fondly known to all of us as “The Stupid Husband Stories”.

(Please note here, dear readers, that these annals are far too numerous to be contained in one post, so I’ll have to tell you about them, one or two at a time. I hope you’ll bear with me! Most important, any seemingly unkind portrayal of any individual in these stories is unintentional, coincidental or a total figment of their imaginations! )

I’ll start with my favorite. “The Wash Out!”

A year or so after we bought our first home, the former husband and I, decided that it needed to be painted. We did all the things you do when you start a home project like that and on the next weekend began painting. About half-way through the first day, my ex was setting up to paint the stairwell which had a landing halfway-up. He set up a chair or step ladder and opened a new can of paint. A few minutes later, I was drawn from the wall I was painting by the sounds of a crash and much cursing.

There on the floor of the landing was the entire gallon of antique white paint creating a lovely lake in the middle of the dark beige carpeting. He thoughtfully began trying to scrape up the paint with his hands and put it back in the can. After a short discussion, it was agreed that I would go to the nearest retail establishment which rented carpet cleaners, get one and return to clean up the spill. I raced off to the store believing the situation at home was under control for the moment.

I returned promptly, dragging the cleaner and all it’s various parts and supplies into the house, and heard the sound of water splashing. Imagine my angst as I turned the corner and viewed the stairway landing only to see “the smart one” pouring water from a a mop bucket right on to the carpet. Once I recovered from the shock and regained my voice, I asked just what in the &*#$@ he thought he was doing?

His response, to this day, shocks and amazes anyone whom I regale with this tale: He said he was pouring the water directly onto the carpet and had been since I left the house. He had decided that he could just wash the paint all the way through the carpet and sub-flooring. With enough water, the paint would be flushed all the way through and run through the crawl space and wash out from under the house. He told me, if I didn’t believe it would wash all the way out, I could go look for myself. We lived on a fairly high slope above a golf course fairway at the time, I ran out on the deck in the back of the house and looked down.

Sure enough, there was a river of milky white water running out from underneath the house down toward the fairway. In addition to the fact that I’m certain the local golf club members were not amused, I asked him if he realized soaking the carpet and sub-flooring enough to get the paint to wash through created a significant risk of permanent damage to the sub-flooring which could be hazardous. Apparently, this thought hadn’t crossed his brilliant mind while he was planning his little “wash out”.

Will wonders ever cease…………………although the creak in the floor boards became somewhat worse and the sub-flooring did experience minor damage, it, thankfully, did not require replacement, but, according to my contractor friends………it was a small miracle.

Next entry: “Landscaping 101″