How to Impress a Woman III

Wine her, dine her, call her, hug her, support her, hold her, surprise her, and compliment her, smile at her, listen to her, laugh with her, cry with her, romance her, believe in her, cuddle with her, shop with her, and don’t forget to lavish her with beautiful diamond jewelry.

I have to admit I added the last sentence; after all, I’m in the jewelry business. I also forgot to add an additional amendment to the support thing: “Don’t remodel your house with her.” Every couple of years I republish the paragraph above for the significant others to rekindle the love that someone many of us take for granted.

A rekindling…Maybe it’s a combination of several things; the current times have been hard on many of us. Everything is so much more expensive; it could be the stress of your job, dealing with the kids (especially teenagers), maybe you or she is run down, fear of hurricanes or worse, she’s living with her in-laws. It could be that you have been treating her like she’s part of the furniture. There is also the reality that you have simply been a complete jerk to her lately… whatever the reason is. Sometimes the light dawns on Marblehead and you see someone being really nice to another and that reminds you just how even implementing a her phrase or two would be a big improvement.

Things happen in my own life that trigger me to refresh, republish, and actually read “The Her” paragraph for my own marital well-being.

I don’t expect you to follow every phrase of it to the letter; that would only make the majority of us look really bad. Like I said, even a few can make a difference.

This brings me to the “support” phrase. My wife and I are currently going through what I consider my own kind of personal trauma…a total home re-modeling that involves some interior changes, all new paint colors inside and out, new flooring, and a new piece of furniture here and there. Why does she want the change? I can’t for the life of me tell you why. All I wanted was a new television set!

My wife has totally taken charge of everything going on while the dogs and I hide at the jewelry store from 8:00 AM to 5:00 PM. She evidently loves every minute of coordinating this and what’s going on over here and the project that is happening over there. Then there is the dreaded…“Oh honey, I need another check!” It seems like everything we own is now in a pile under a plastic canvas in the middle of the living room, with the added organized chaos of an army of workers in and out of every door that can also be seen hanging off ladders outside every window in the house. What do I think about “the new fresh look” that is presently in progress? I have to be perfectly honest here...my two dogs Bella and Toby, and I have been positively traumatized by the construction in progress. On a good note, all the outside activity has scared off my unwelcome lanai resident, an oversized Iguana I affectionately named “Fred.” Meanwhile, I'm ready to stick my head in the three-foot-deep hole Bella dug in the backyard until it’s all over.

Mainly because “the in with new” process also involves “out with the old,” which means the removal of many wonderfully comfortable things I have become extremely attached to over the years of my earthly existence (she calls it a purge). So far, there are five large green trash bags of my clothing and shoes. I could not help but notice I was now down to two neckties, which she obviously chose to remain in my closet (a colorful one for a wedding and another black one for a wake or a funeral, hopefully not mine!). Did I mention the disappearance of my vintage t-shirts? I’ve had some of them since high school! I’m certain they went curbside and/or to places of charity unknown. Also missing are numerous pictures, paintings, knick-knacks, and travel mementos. First and foremost, one thing about living on Marco Island is that if you put anything even remotely usable on the curb, it’s gone in a New York minute. Someone took the couch before I brought out all the matching pillows! Second of all, I should have had a yard sale, and with the proceeds I might generate enough cash for my impending trauma therapy?

This is where the “I cry alone with her” segment of the first paragraph comes into play. I also failed to notice anything pertaining to “remodel with her” and pretend to enjoy it. All in all, now that the dust has settled, the remodel has ended up looking pretty spectacular; even the dogs seem to enjoy “the new look,” while lounging on the new comfy couch. Wait a moment, my wife is calling me… “Honey, we have to do something different about the landscaping!!!!!!!” Maybe if I distract her with a jewelry upgrade on her diamond earrings, it might take her mind off the landscaping?

If you’re concerned how my wife will react to me writing this article, the only way she will find out is if you tell her. Not to worry, I’ll be fine if she never reads my column.