good husband/bad man Part II

Last week Silas had an endoscopy.  The doctor and nurses sedated him to see why his stomach has been giving him trouble.  I was his ride home, so after the procedure I found him in the recovery room.  He was behind a curtain with a young nurse (younger than me) on a cot, laying on his side.  The pretty nurse told me he was very sleepy, and very chatty, then she smiled at me, sweetly sideways.  This is the part of the story where my concern for his condition turned to curiosity.

The nurse told me every time they tried to wake him, he would groggily look at them and say, "You're not pretty enough to be my wife!".  He would fall back into his dopey sleep, and they would try to wake him again, and he would say the same thing.  Had he thought that it was going to be me waking him up each time?  The nurses giggled, and were not offended.

I shook him awake, and he looked at me and smiled.  He was dopey!  He was telling the nurse how he might invent a program for her computer to make it work better, just before she stepped out of the curtain.  I told him what he had said to the nurses, and he was embarrassed a bit, so he said loudly, through the curtain, "you are pretty enough to be my wife".  I could hear her giggling behind the curtain.

I learned two things about what my husband is actually thinking, without his filter.  The first is that he is a pretty big nerd.  He holds back a lot of technical details and geeky computer inventions (my 5th grade son also has this trait).  I'm grateful for his nerd-i-ness, as it puts food on the table, and he is well rounded and social.  I'm also grateful I'm not responsible for all those details in his head.

The second thing I learned, was really just a reminder.  Silas thinks I am the most beautiful person he knows.  Compared to the other women in the doctor's office, if I were comparing objectively, which is a terrible thing to do,  there was no winner.  I might be the winner, in that I was not in hospital scrubs, but my 'mom uniform', which might be a 6 out of 10 rather than a 5.

How Silas views Tyson

What I actually look like.

Every girl wants her husband to think she is the prettiest girl in the room, and mine does.  The flip side, which is the 'bad man' part, is it could mean that he thinks you aren't as pretty as I am.  I don't think the two are mutually exclusive.   I think the real danger is if I thought I was prettier than you, and I don't.  I don't even care what you look like, I like you anyway.  I think Silas doesn't actually care what I look like either, because I can be an ugly person, he loves me despite myself.  Our time together has helped him love me: body, mind and spirit, and I reciprocate.

Appropriate Idiom

I can't think of the best title. There are too many hokey puns and applicable idioms, that there isn't a 'best'. My favorite ones are 'a head above' or ' hard headed husband' (just for the alliteration, not because he is). As you can see, this is about my husband, and I don't want to make fun of him with a pun or saying, so I'll just leave the title alone.

In a dramatic turn of events, Silas forgot to put the guard onto the hair clippers, during what was clearly a bleary-eyed, early morning, repair job. He took the blade to his head, leaving a 2 inch strip of pure Silas head. We all came running to the bathroom to the sound of laughter, and then we joined in! There was no working around it, and Silas had to shave his already balding head entirely.

This style seems to be quite popular for men our age. I have yet to decide what I think of it, even as some of you reading this have this exact same 'haircut'. On one hand, it is handy. An easy way to ease one's way through rough patches of balding. It is an immeasurable step up from the comb-over. It isn't denying the change, and yet steering one clear of the Bozo the Clown look. In this same category I am lumping those men who for simplicity sake, just shave their noggins.

Then, there are the other guys: The kinda tough jerks who shave their head so that people will do what they say! I would lump them into an insecure military/police/skinhead crew. The kinda folks who are just not happy with themselves, and the rest of us have to suffer. The problem for me is that sometimes one guy can be in both groups. Or, I might assume the latter when it really is the former or vice-a-versa. I guess the point here, as in my previous blog, is you really can't judge. I sit around and think about this kinda stuff anyways, so then I do judge now that my very own husband is in the 'bic-club'.

Since this is a new idea for me, and I spend a lot of time looking at and thinking about my husband, I'm going to have to get used to it. 15 years ago we cut his long fluffy hair on the back porch of his parent's house, so he could join the Air Force. Every 2 weeks or so, since then, Silas or I have cut his hair, to regulations, whether he needed it or not. Now we can wait a few extra weeks, and it will be back to how it was before, balding on top (and on the back) and thick and dark on the sides. Then I won't have to think about it...