In my next life, I would like to return to earth as my husband. Is that even possible, to come back in a reincarnated state as someone who is alive right now? I just want to know what it feels like to be him. You might think I would have a pretty good idea, considering we have been super serious since we met over five years ago, have been married for three years, and have a child together. He’s one of my favorite people ever. But sometimes he baffles me and that is why I want to get inside his head.
He never, ever irons his shirts (except for weddings and I can’t confirm that he did this before we met). He gets mad at me for ironing them, or for even throwing them in the dryer for five minutes to minimize wrinkles (although he doesn’t know I actually do this with his button down shirts 99% of the time. Hey, babe… Surprise!). He says he can’t be bothered spending any extra time on his appearance because it’s just not important. I say I feel like my head is going to explode when he shoves the clothing I’ve lovingly, smoothly folded into a ball and throws it willy nilly in the closet. I’ve never actually exploded. I’ve yelled a lot and resigned myself to folding and putting away all the laundry.
But can you imagine all the time I would have if I weren’t spending any of my precious minutes folding or ironing clothes, nagging my husband about clothes, or changing my own outfit multiple times before leaving the house? I could probably run 20 more miles a week, blog one or two more times a week, and finish some of the projects I started nearly a year ago, like refinishing an end table and sewing some really cute bibs.
Also, he dresses Sweet Pea in whatever has the fewest fasteners and is clean with little regard for what goes together as an outfit, whereas I dress her in whatever is most cute, with utmost respect for the Sanctity Of Her Outfits. She has a lot of outfits that came together as a matched set and if you put the top of one matched set with some random bottom, then one day you’re going to come across the bottom of the matched set but you won’t have a top that goes with it, which means you can’t put her in that bottom until the laundry has been done, and she grows way too fast to waste chances to wear cute, matching outfits.
What would it feel like to go out with Sweet Pea, both of us in functional, if wrinkled, not necessarily matching garb, and not even care. It would probably give me energy to care about things that actually matter… Ok, Dan? Are you reading this? I admit it. These things don’t actually matter.
Also, Dan isn’t all about a meal having mostly protein, some carbs, and a little fat, like I am. Unless it’s before a workout, then my meal has to be practically all simple carbs. Dan just eats food. We’ll be on a bike ride and 15 miles in, he’s like “Let’s stop for a burrito. I’m starving!” and I’m like “What did you have for breakfast?” and he says, “A peach and some green beans.” Because that’s just what he felt like eating. And I’m not just saying he would maybe eat something that ridiculous. He actually ate that before a long ride one time.
Me? I have to have my instant oatmeal with a splash of milk, a handful of raisins, and a sprinkling of slivered almonds. Also, I need coffee of the exact right strength with half and half. Not milk, not Coffee Mate, just half and half, preferably organic. If I don’t have this meal before a bike ride, then… Then I don’t even know what would happen because I always have this meal before a bike ride. I can’t imagine what it would feel like to be fancy free, opening the refrigerator and just eating whatever looks good. And I don’t really want to take any chances and try it sometime. See, that’s why I need to come back as Dan in another life. It won’t work otherwise, because probably I would just start riding my bike after an alternative breakfast and be like “My tummy feels weird” and “I have no energy because I ate a stupid breakfast!”
Another thing about Dan that I can’t quite wrap my head around: The man never wears a watch. I on the other hand wear a watch all the time, even to sleep. If I wake up in the middle of the night, I need to know what time it is. I am very, very nearsighted, so I have to hold my wrist up about one inch away from my face so I can see the time, otherwise I will probably explode from not knowing what time it is. During the day, I can usually guess what time it is within ten minutes, but I wear a watch anyway. This discrepancy in watch wearing habits has, believe it or not, been a source of tension in our marriage.
Did you know the simple words “You have no idea what time it is” can be hurled at a spouse like a grenade? I have found that if spoken loudly enough with a certain minimum threshold of sleep deprivation, these words are potentially quite dangerous. Like when you’re exhausted and your baby is not doing what the books said she would do- those books that made you a parenting expert back when you knew everything, before you became a parent at which point you realized you knew nothing- and obviously your baby is not sleeping like she is supposed to because you’re not doing what the books said to do, so you are trying to do what they say but when you’ve been out and you come home and you’re like “How long has the baby been up?” and your husband says, “I don’t know.” and then you say, “Well, what time did she wake up from her nap?” and he’s like “I didn’t look at the time,” and then you feel like you want to explode, but you don’t, so instead you yell, “GET A WATCH! OH MY GOD!” but even though he never did start wearing a watch, it’s all good because that was so 2012 and you’re in a completely different place now which means you can laugh at how uptight you were about the whole sleep thing.
Seriously, it would probably be freeing to not wear a watch. I might like it. I think I will try this one day. When I am reincarnated as my husband, that is.
|From left: Me in an outfit I had to buy on vacation because none of the choices I brought were working for me and Dan in a button down that was shaped like the corner of a suitcase just minutes before this photo was taken.|
3 thoughts on “In My Next Life…”
I can totally relate to part of this blog- the fact that david definitely doesn’t care about his clothing either (I’m sure you’ve noticed this about him). It drives me crazy but after 37 years of marriage I have accepted this quirk in his personality- and I work around it. I iron what he wears. However, I don’t want to be reincarnated as him. Not at all! Not sure there’s anyone I would want to come back as… Totally enjoyed reading your thoughts- looking forward to seeing you on the 4th!
I swear I have always ironed my shirts for weddings, funerals and interviews!Dan
Seriously, I love you. So flippin’ funny.