Are you new here?

An open letter to husbands everywhere...

Dear Honey (because you are really sweet, and I mean that in an honest, non-saccharine, non-agave nectar but real honey way),

What are you, new here? The pepper is still in the same spot that it's been in since we moved in to this place in 2002.

Welcome to our apartment. I hope you'll like living here. Oh wait, you've been living here for the same amount of time I have! So why on earth don't you know your way around yet?

The frozen food is in the freezer. The milk we keep in the fridge, because it is narsty (and I do mean putrid) when you leave it out ON THE COUNTERTOP. We still keep vinegar in the fridge because I am paranoid; this has not ever changed. And I still get angry when you let the bathmat drop into the tub and by the time I am ready to shower the next morning, it is soaking wet because we have a leaky faucet.

But still, welcome. Oh, did you say you'd make dinner? Mmmhhhmmm. That's a nice welcome treat. But you must be new here still, because dinner is not two pieces of smoked salmon in a bubblepack from Costco (still in the fridge) and a bag of red potatoes on the countertop (uncooked). For me, maybe. But not for toddlers. And better yet, you must really be new here because when you say you'll be home at 530 and you still aren't here by 7, you cooking dinner is automatically translated into me cooking dinner and being in a foul mood.

But now, for the apologies, because while you are newer here (apparently) than I am, it seems that maybe I need a guided tour too. How the $%^&* do you use that darn TV you bought? I can't even figure out how to turn on the DVD player. I used to be good at juggling all of those remotes... and I do prefer to sleep with the window open because I am cheap and like a breeze when I sleep. Sorry about that. And I still do not pretend to understand you when you talk about investments or taxes or whatever. That is not my domain. But I do get that you prefer your raspberry jam with seeds and will never buy the seedless one (I promise).

Honey, you're awesome. I adore you and fell in love with you the moment I met you (sorry it took you a year to figure that out!). You bring me moments of belly aching laughter and profound happiness. You gave me a beautiful, smart and loving son and you fill my days with jokes and compassion, support for my work and real partnership. I love you.


But oy vey, I must REALLY be from Venus. And you must be from MARS. Otherwise, you'd know that we don't need 3 different places in the kitchen to store plastic cups.

With my everlasting love,

Your wife