My husband is really very smart, so what I’m about to say should not be a measure of his intelligence. In fact, he’s the only person I know who skipped High School completely, but has a college degree. Well, actually he did attend two months at Lewiston High School, but due to some unfortunate circumstances, aka poor choices, which included, but were not limited to; fighting, drinking, skipping school, and, as the coup de grace, mistakenly blowing pot smoke in a gym teachers face, he found himself expelled from school. For my readers out-of-state, and outside of the U.S., know that Lewiston can be a rough little city, and as I’ve heard it referred to more than once as the “armpit of New England,” expulsion from a school like Lewiston High is no easy task, especially in 1979, when they actually had smoking sections for kids. Weedgate notwithstanding, my husband tackled some tough courses in college, and even though I am a nurse, I always ask him anatomy questions because I am the sort of person who studies to pass the test, and he is the sort of person who studies to learn. Kinesiology, Pathology, Neurology, he passed with ease, but Fashion 101, umm nope.
“I haven’t seen you wear a scrunchie lately,” he said to me last week. I laughed out loud, thinking he was kidding, then stopped when I realized that he was serious. Now, I actually do have a few velvet scrunchies tucked away, because although dated, they really are very comfortable and don’t tug at my hair, but I have not worn one out in public since 1992. I’m a little surprised that he knows what a scrunchie is in the first place, as I’ve had to educate him on the difference between a sweater and a sweatshirt on more than one occasion. If this seems incredible to you, my reader, consider this conversation between my son and my husband, two manly men, several years ago, and smartly preserved by me in my notes, to be used at a later date; this being the day.
Husband: “So, the difference between a skirt and a dress is the length…”
Son: “No, no, I’m pretty sure that a dress is a shirt and a skirt put together. ”
Husband: “Nooo, I think that a dress is below the knee, and a skirt is above the knee, and a dress zips in the back. ”
Son: “Mom? We’re waiting for your expert opinion…”
After I stopped laughing, and confirmed that the “Son” was correct, I asked them what the difference was between a sweater and a sweatshirt. A lively discussion ensued regarding hoods, zippers, pockets, buttons, pullovers and cardigans at which point my husband insisted that the only difference was that a sweater could be turned inside out (what the….????). This had me laughing even harder until I pushed the merriment too far, and asked if they knew the difference between leggings and tights. The “Son” left the room in disgust, while the “Husband” struggled to explain. “One of them has built-in socks, and the other doesn’t, I’m not sure which one though.”
If this all seems like a putdown, it assuredly is not. I actually find his lack of knowledge on the subject endearing. I know that for my part, his abundance of tools would be incredibly daunting to name, let alone use correctly, and I really have no desire to be educated on drill bits, screwdrivers, types of hammers and power tools. That is his world, and I love that he knows how these things work, and can use them to build a house or fix a faucet. I’m sure if he wanted to laugh, he could have me try to explain the difference between a hacksaw and a miter saw…”Umm, they both cut? But, the hacksaw is used for hacking at things? And probably the miter saw is for detail work? I guess?”
I’m wondering what my husband will think of this, as he is away camping for a few days, and I can’t get his opinion before I post it, as I usually do. But, if he were here, I would ask him if he could tell me what I am currently wearing on the lower half of my body. I’m pretty sure that he would not know that these are called yoga pants and that he would say something that makes me laugh, and quite possibly be used as fodder for future blogs. It’s just ust one of the many, many reasons that I love him.
