Sometimes Handsome Just Ain’t Enough

When one has been married for 38 years one gleans a great deal of information about a spouse’s intentions from subtle verbal and nonverbal cues. How we work those cues to our benefit is up to us.

Case in point: Yesterday after golf Studly came in and immediately sat in his recliner. I knew from his posture that he intended to take a nap.

When he awoke he leaned over and gave me a kiss and informed me he was going to take a shower. I knew that was code for “meet me in the bedroom in 15 minutes for some mushy, married stuff.” Nailed it.

After said mushy stuff I knew he’d take another nap. Batting a thousand.
The nap was a short one. I knew he’d be hungry for lunch, so I wasn’t surprised when he opened the refrigerator and stared blindly into its depths as men often do. “I made chicken salad,” I said.” It’s right in front of you.”

He turned as if to ask a question. Before he could say anything I said, “Yes, I bought fresh bread.” Another question crept into his eyes, “and Cheetos.” I finished. He smiled.

Later that afternoon he asked if I wanted to do something. Now this one was tricky. He had on a ratty blue Indianapolis Colts t-shirt and old black golf shorts, so I knew he was thinking about working on our motorcycles or taking the car in for an oil change, but I wanted to go out for dinner and perhaps see a movie. I told him as much.

“Yeah, we can do that,” he said. “But I wanted to get the oil changed on my car first.” Ha, I knew it!

“Well, we can do that, too,” I smiled charmingly. “But you’ll need to change clothes first.”

“What?” He asked in that special innocent non-innocent way he has.

“Yep. If we leave the house with you dressed as you are we’ll end up eating at Whataburger and going to the $3 theater. I want a nice dinner and a first run movie.”

He gestured at his middle-aged face and body, ‘Don’t you think I look handsome anymore?”

I responded in my best Texas sweetheart twang, “Honey, sometimes handsome just ain’t enough.”

Studly changed clothes. We got the oil changed. We had a nice dinner at a Japanese grill–his choice, but I okay’d it. All was going according to plan. Right up until I realized we were mere blocks from the $3 theater. Well played, Studly. Well played.

Peace, People.