A Husband In Hot Water- True Story

What does a poor man do when he has a misunderstanding with his stroppy wife? Find out what this husband did. 

*'dosi' - old lady

On one of our walks my husband and I came upon a five year old playing in his garden. When his eyes fell on our dog, he came running to the gate. Our dog went up to him immediately, tail wagging furiously as she  looking up at him with joyous expectancy. The boy stooped down and patted her through the gate grill, his hand gentle, eyes soft. 

"Hello, little doggy," he said. 

All of 800 millimeters high, I guess he felt mighty tall compared to her. 

He looked up at us and asked, "What's your doggy's name?"

"Kara," I said.

"Ka--ra," he felt the name on his tongue, while he continued stroking her.

"I like it," he pronounced, his eyes lighting up. We were both absurdly pleased with his seal of approval.

“How old is Kara?”

"She's an old lady. She's sixteen," said my husband.

"Oh,” said the young fella, looking up at us with eyes that were suddenly anxious. Mystified, we looked back at his worried face. We could tell he wanted to say something. We waited, encouraging smiles on our faces, as Kara ran off to investigate a smell.

“I have a dog too,” the toddler announced at last.

“Really? What’s your dog’s name?”

“Cuddles,” he said his eyes softening momentarily. The next second they clouded over again. He quickly turned away. What an amazingly mobile face. Fascinated, we watched, wondering what was bothering him. 

Unable to keep his worry to himself a moment longer, he turned an anxious face to us, blurting out, "He, and my mum, are very old. They're twenty-one..."

His voice trailed away. His lashes came down on troubled eyes and his lips gave an uncontrollable little quiver. If our hearts hadn't melted, we would have laughed. 

"Twenty-one isn't old for humans," my hubby assured him, his face grave and voice gentle. "Only dogs."

Somewhat comforted, the toddler looked down to hide his obvious relief. He continued patting Kara.

“Fre-ddy,” called a soft voice from inside the house. We’d sensed her presence behind a window, ensuring her son was safe as he chatted with strangers at the gate.

“Bye, Kara,” he smiled, waving at us and our dog before running off. “Com-ing...”

With a wave at him that somewhat included his mum, we continued walking.

“I guess that was his old lady,” I smiled.

“We should meet her,” said my husband. His voice had assumed the same gravity he'd shown Freddy.

“Oh! Why?” I asked, puzzled, a split second before I looked up to see the gleam in his eye. 

"Just to reassure her twenty-one isn't old..."

He tried hard to keep his voice grave but didn't succeed. I should have known. 

"Coming from you, my thirty-five year old hubby," I said, "that would be perfectly believable."

"Oh yeah? Wonder what the little chap would think of almost forty," my darling hubby, four years my junior, and not to be outdone, pondered solemnly as he looked for my reaction out of the corners of his eyes.

I couldn't help thinking the boy would think he'd met Methuselah. I said as much to my man and we both ended up laughing.

We continued walking in companionable silence. Braced by the heady scent of jasmine and pine mingled with roses, we breathed in deeply. The New Zealand air felt crisp and cool. As we approached our favourite park we picked up pace. Suddenly, my husband took off from behind. 

“Come on my two dosi-s*,” he teased as he ran past. 

Kara would’ve easily caught up with him. Unfortunately for her, her leash was with me. We chased after him, but he was already sprinting way ahead. We ran around the park and, slightly out of breath, reached the exit closest to home. Settling back into a leisurely pace I said, “Even with you shooting off without any warning, us dosis came a very close second. Didn’t we Kara?” Her tongue hanging right out, Kara looked up at me and wagged her tail. My husband, I could tell with an inward smile, was ready with something smart on the tip of his tongue. This time I was expecting it. I waited, only to have him bite it all back. He darted a guilty look at me at exactly the same moment as I looked at him, puzzled. He looked away hastily.

As we neared home, I noticed him glance at me more than once. What’s bothering him? I wondered. Why the guilty looks?

“Hope you’re not upset?” he said, tentatively.

“Why would I be?” I was genuinely puzzled.

“That quip I made about your being a dosi? That was just a joke.”

Oh, so that was it. “I know,” I replied lightly. 

Something in my tone must’ve been at variance with my words for his eyes went to my face and looked away hastily. I pretended not to notice. 

Why’s he going all apologetic for nothing, I wondered, beginning to feel ever so slightly annoyed. My mind had begun churning out thoughts I couldn’t help. Does he think I can’t take his calling me a dosi? Or almost forty? Does he think I have no sense of humour? Or that I’m so overly sensitive, his calling me a dosi will undermine my confidence?

Slight resentment began seeping through my mind and it showed in my stiffened bearing. Have I ever let my age dictate who I am?

My thoughts were on a roll. There simply was no stopping them. Perhaps he has begun worrying about our age difference, I thought uncharitably, knowing it was neither true nor fair.

I kept ignoring his worried looks, pretending it would make matters worse if I said anything right then, while I was feeling annoyed. I gave myself a little pat on the back for wisely keeping mum. Had I examined my true motives closely, I might have had to face the uncomfortable fact that watching him stew in his apprehensions gave me a perverse sense of gratification.

Finally, realising I was unwilling to admit I was put off, and knowing I was, he gave up trying to probe. We passed the most majestic of golden ashes, a copper beech with outstanding red foliage that contrasted vividly with the greenery around it, and a eucalyptus that shone silver in a gentle breeze before I managed to get my thoughts in order.

I felt vaguely ashamed of my silent tantrum but felt that the moment to say anything had somehow passed. I’d apologise some other time. For the rest of our walk we indulged in our favourite pastime of peeking into and commenting on interesting front gardens of private properties. Both made an effort to enjoy the exercise as much as we always did, but were aware of an uneasy truce.

Tired, yet refreshed, we reached home. As we let ourselves in I was acutely conscious of what lay ahead - the inescapable weekend grind. The cleaning, gardening, cooking... 

Five days a week, after returning home from work, attending to the children's homework, dinner and dishes, we had no energy to do much else. We normally attacked the rest over the weekend, but today the thought made me grumpy. That I was trying hard to push away my guilt at being petty earlier might have had something to do with it. The kids were away – a sleepover and perhaps a blessing. I needed to work this feeling out of my system but not by slaving over the stove or attending to their needs. Damn the housework, I thought. It can wait until next weekend. 

“I am just not in the mood for cooking,” I sighed and flopped on to the sofa.

“Why don’t I cook something?" he said, not looking enthusiastic either.  

"I know," he said, as if inspired. "Let's neither of us bother cooking. Let's go out for lunch.”

“Oh no,” I replied, “Too soon after our walk.”

“What!” he exclaimed, feigning surprise. “Who’s getting ol..” and he stopped in his tracks.

I looked at him in dismay. Oh no, I thought, this has got to stop. This time though, my anger was spent. I just wanted to clear the air.

I began tentatively, “I’m sorry if I was upset during our walk.”

He went silent and simply shook his head. I don’t know why, it made me emotional. I continued in a distinctly wobbly voice, “I should have cleared the air right when it happened instead of letting it fester.”

“That’s oka...”

“But I was offended at the implied criticism – that I was so totally dour ...so lacking in confidence that I’d get upset if you joked about my being a dosi.”

He opened his mouth to protest but I was eager to carry on giving vent to thoughts I’d bottled up since the walk.

“It made me think to myself, am I such a frump?”

He winced and shook his head weakly. “I... no, of course no..” he began just as I reproached, “I thought you knew me better.”

“I..Yes, yes, of course I do. I mean - know...” and his voice trailed off in confusion.

"I can take a joke, you know."

Having spilt out all that had been spinning and buzzing around my head, I realised the poor chap needed a little time to gather his wits. I decided I'd give him time - wait patiently for his words of contrition for doubting that. And when they do come, when he spills out all his remorse, I'll accept his words graciously. The scene went through my mind. He'd say, 'I know. I've always known you're a good sport. I'm sorry.' And I'd say, 'That's alright,' with a forgiving smile. 

I was practicing the perfect forgiving yet loving smile in my mind's eye when I realised he hadn't said a word. Why didn’t he say something? Anything?  After an interminable silence I couldn't bear it anymore. I darted him a quick look. He was looking down, lost in thought.

Oh no! Was he remembering the incident and feeling upset all over again. Should I simply have left well alone - not raked it up? Never mind his apology, wasn’t he at least going to accept mine?

My mind was racing but my heart had slumped into my shoes. I’d almost given up when I felt an arm slowly go about my shoulders. Then he patted them affectionately.

“Sorry, old girl,” he said, a barely noticeable emphasis on the 'old'.

Had I heard right? I looked at him suspiciously. He was trying hard to look chastened but his lips were twitching. I watched him, my confused mind trying to grapple with what he’d just done. Three words and he’d managed to say it all. Struggling with how best I should accept those words I watched the tic that still worked at the side of his mouth. Then I caved in. 

"You ratbag!

I lunged for him, but both of us were laughing helplessly.

Never down for long, my man was back to being his irrepressible self. It had turned out to be a lovely day after all.

dosi - old lady

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