Nothing goes together like bodily functions and marriage
My husband’s been away for a week and I want to go ahead say this out loud: I hope he never decides to cheat on me or die, because I will never leave him. It’s not necessarily the work of having the kids all week without him; I tag out with my dad in the evenings. It’s more the loneliness. The absence of another person in the room when something incredibly cute happens, or when I think if I have to answer one more question before I have my coffee I might just throw myself through a window. There’s been no “ask Daddy” or “go watch the simpsons with Daddy” or “holy shit why are they doing this to us” kind of commiseration.
I’m an introvert for the most part, which makes it hard to have children anyway but also hinders me when it comes to building that kind of mother’s community that we see in the commercials for Mommy Yoga and Girl’s Night Out. The fact is that my husband is my best friend, and I’d rather be with him than just about anybody, even though the women in my life who are close to me are all perfectly laid back and exceedingly easy to be around.
I confess that part of my high level of comfort with Michael is related to how infrequently I feel the need to wear a bra, or clothes really, in his presence. And let’s face it: after nine years together, it’s a rare day that doesn’t find my husband gazing at me in amazement after a particularly amplified burp, and on more than one occasion I’ve run him from the room with delightful bodily functions from south of the border. So it’s understandable really, isn’t it? It’s just so EASY to be married! It’s so easy to slip into that complacent frame of mind where life is all ratty underwear and farts at the dinner table, no?
Lately thought I’ve been venturing out, have had conversations with women I barely know and have found them tolerable, and have entertained the idea of building a social circle again.
What worries me is this: now that I’m feeling better, less reclusive and more able to tolerate the company of other humans, what if I make a slip of judgment one night and let out a huge fart during a girls’ night out movie party?