Me Time

“Sheila…how come you can’t push the lawn mower back closer to the garage wall?  Why do you have to leave it so dang close to the door?” I closed the door behind me while I tried to contain the true degree of my frustration.  As I approached Sheila I noticed that she had the phone to her ear, but I still continued addressing my concern with the lawn mower.  “I almost smashed my headlight again, you know!  I told you to just let me cut the grass anyways then we wouldn’t even be having this conversation right now!” 

“Ugh… John, whatever!  You want me to let you cut the grass?  You don’t even cut it right…that’s why I have to!  If I let you do it then the neighborhood kids might think we got a go-kart track over here.”  She waved me off like I was a ‘nobody’ and spun around to return to her telephone conversation. 

After realizing that it would be a waste of my time and energy to continue in this debate, I took off my shoes and stood exhausted.  Then, irritated that she was talking on the phone in the first place, I watched her closely as she began to prepare some dishwater.  She seemed to be really enjoying her conversation as she worked.  After a while she turned her attention back to me. 

“You okay?” She asked sarcastically.

 I continued my observation of her as I thought to myself “Is she even the least bit happy I’m home?” I could sense that she was on edge so instead of provoking an all out cut-throat argument I simply responded, “I’m fine Honey; just admiring your beauty!”

She rolled her eyes as hard as she could.  I guess she could tell by my tone that I was being “funny” so that was my cue to head towards the living room. 

 “Girl…did you hear that?”  She started after she thought I was out of ear shot.  “He is tripping; just walks in complaining about the stupid lawn mower.  Then he’s standing here watching me like I’m a basketball game!  Oh my god…!  I guess he’s mad because I don’t like him cutting the grass.  What sane man would be mad about that?  That’s one less thing he has to do, right?”

            Going on with her conversation “I don’t know, girl.  He knows I like things a certain way.  By now, I would think he would just leave me alone.  It’s not like I ask him to do a whole lot around here.  I do so much around this house moving the lawn mower out of the way is the least he can do.  Cutting the grass was the hard part!”   

Yeah, I’ll admit, I was deliberately eaves-dropping in on her conversation, so I leaned my head back into the kitchen “Shelia, can you please stop talking about me? I can hear you, you know.” 

After a small pause she yelled back, “Then maybe you can take the advice and just move it next time without complaining and I wouldn’t have anything to talk about!” 

“My god…she is a beast!  You’d thought I called her mama out of her name.  I just asked her to stop talking about me and she had to get slick mouthed.  She’s talking to me like I’m some kind of punk.  See, that’s how women get smacked; then they want to yell domestic abuse like they’re so innocent. “Sheila, chill out!”  Of course she still didn’t shut up.  So, I tried changing my tone a little because I really just wanted her to spend some time with me.  I just wanted some attention from my wife. 

“Sheila…Sheila,” I begged trying my best to reverse whatever this was we were having.  “Can you please hang up the phone so we can just talk to each other like normal people?” 

“Talk about what?”  She yelled folding her nose as if she had just gotten a whiff of some sort of bad odor. 

“Talk about, what…I’ve been at work all day!” 

“Well, your food is in the microwave…what else do you need?”  She was now standing with both hands on her hip but the phone was still up to her ear. 

“Where is the woman I married?  I expect my wife to want to spend a little time with me after I’ve been at work all day; and mind you, working so her sarcastic behind can be on the telephone talking to her girlfriend about me who obviously don’t have a man or is miserable with her own life that she don’t have enough sense to know when it’s time to hang up the phone!” 

“I thought I could spend some time…..” then I stopped. “What I’m a doing?  I am not about to give her the satisfaction of making a complete fool out of me in front of her girlfriend!”  So, with a wave of my hand I responded to her, “You know what, never mind.  Just keep talking to your buddy!” 

“Don’t blow me off!  And you don’t ‘never mind’ me!” she screamed.  She was at the hostile level now.  I guess she was trying to prove something to her girlfriend. 

I completely ignored her.  She barked, howled and babbled on all while I warmed up my food.  After my food was at a desired temperature and I poured myself a tall glass of iced tea, I took my plate and drink into the living room where the kids were watching television and I ate my dinner in there with them. 

Sheila has really changed.  We’ve been married for about eight years now and lately it seems as if every day is more miserable with her than the next.  I really began to notice it after my son, John Jr., was born.

 Sheila and I were like friends when we first met.  She loved to sit under me and we would talk all day if we could.  Now, she could care less.  Most times I feel so lonely and even useless; like I’m just the man that drops off my pay check and keeps it moving so that she can do what she needs to do.  Anything I do is never good enough.  According to her I can’t even cut the grass right! 

Aside from the stank attitude that has recently become her she is a good wife and mother in that she takes great care of the kids and keeps our house clean and bills paid on time.  But when it comes to me, I just get a plate of food and a place to stay.  I feel like I’m married but alone; and I must say, it is one of the most miserable feelings in the world. 

And let’s not even start on our sex life, or lack thereof.  It’s going on, what, six months now and I had to pull teeth to get that two minute loving.  My wife is a five foot four, one hundred and fifty-five pound, lighted skinned African American woman who is absolutely gorgeous to me.  I mean the sight of my wife makes me miss the old times when she was willing.  And after having J.R. she kept on an extra fifteen pounds, and I mean it all went to the right places.   But what does it matter; I can’t even enjoy her.  I can look but I can’t touch, and I better not look too long.  It’s like she can tell when I want some and she starts flipping out on me like I hid her deodorant. 

After I finished my dinner Sheila was still yapping away on the phone.  I washed out my plate then headed upstairs to take off my work clothes and get comfortable. 

“Sheila, I’m going upstairs now, just so you know.  It’s just you and the kids down here.”

            “Uh huh,” she answered barely looking my way.  I don’t know if she was still upset or just back to her ‘Ignore John’ auto mode, but I didn’t stay to find out. 

 

 

About an hour later Sheila walked in the room with a bunch of laundry in her hand. 

“How was your dinner?”  She asked. 

“She must be over our little tiff since she is voluntarily speaking to me now”, I thought.  “It was good as usual.  So…you finally let the phone get some rest for the day.”  I was doing a little provoking to get back at her for treating me the way she did earlier. 

Sheila tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips, “Don’t start…” 

“Anyway… how was your day with my offspring?”  I asked, now ready to make real peace with her. 

“Pretty good I guess.   J.R. has his letters memorized now.  He’s still having a hard time pronouncing the letter Q, though.” 

Sheila is a stay at home mom.  We decided, or rather she decided, that she would stay home while I worked.  But honestly, I don’t mind.  She isn’t one of the Bon-Bon sit on the couch watching Soap Operas all day kind of wife.  She actually gets a lot done. 

“My son is as smart as his daddy!” I joked proudly. 

“I’d say!” She added, more so as to suggest that I’m not that bright. 

“What?  Come here!” I said as I reached out from my propped up position on the bed and pulled at her shirt slightly.  She snatched away from me and giggled. 

Still smiling at my playful attack, she started walking towards the bathroom to put the towels away as she continued the conversation. “India got a note home from school today.  The teacher said she was being a smart-mouth.  I told her if I get another note like that I’m going to show her who is smarter.” 

”Now, she got that mouth from you!”    

Sheila walked back in front of the bedroom doorway with her hands on her hips.  “What did you just say?” 

“See, my point exactly!”  I said pointing at her; both of us laughing now. 

I thought to myself, “Uh oh, she’s still laughing.  She must really be in a better mood!” 

Feeling a little “Romeo” now, I mean I made her laugh a couple times already, I decided to take advantage of the moment.  Today, especially, I just really needed her affection.  So I asked “Come here Honey and lie next to me for a little while.”  Instantly the atmosphere changed from 90 to negative15 degrees. At any moment a tornado could have broken out right in the middle of our doorway.   

 “John not tonight, I’m not feeling up to it.” She seemed irritated now as she made her way to the dresser drawer. 

“I just asked you to lie next to me!” 

“John, I’m not stupid.  I know what you want.” 

Then, changing from subtle to defensive, I sat up on the edge of the bed.  “Well, what’s wrong with that?  You are my wife!  And it’s been six months, Sheila!” 

“Uh.” she groaned.  “I’m tired.  I’ve been at home all day with J.R. cleaning and running around like a chicken without a head.   I’m just tired!”    

“Well what if I give you a massage?  I can get you relaxed first.  We don’t have to jump right into it.  I really just need to feel you next to me.”  I reached my hand out to grab hers. 

“Uh, unh...  I don’t think so.  Plus, I have to go check on the kids.  I can’t leave J.R. and Indy alone for too long.” 

Looking at her in disbelief, “Indy is six and he is two.  Indy always plays good with him.  What is up with you?  You used to not mind.  What is it?  What am I doing wrong, Sheila?” I begged. 

“I don’t know.  It just, grosses me out.”  She said shrinking her body in disgust. 

“Well, how did we get the two downstairs?  It didn’t always gross you out.  What’s so gross about it now?”

            “I don’t know.   I…I just don’t want to.” 

“Well, when do you think you will WANT TO?”  I demanded. 

“I don’t know!” She grabbed some clothes from the drawer and began walking out of the bedroom. “I need to jump in the shower.  It’s been a long day.” 

As she headed towards the bathroom I got up and followed her determined to convince her to give in. 

“Aw, you are bogus!  Sheila, come on!”  I grabbed her hand and pulled it to my face.   “Baby, please, I need to feel you.  All I want is you; I want my wife!” 

Rolling her eyes “Uh, John no!”  She answered firmly this time. 

“Well Sheila, what am I supposed to do then?”  I groveled. 

She snatched her hand away from me, “You got you, figure it out!” she said.  Then she stepped further into the bathroom and shut the door in my face. 

I stood there facing the door dumbfounded.  “Did she just slam the door in my face…?  Man, I’m tired of this!” Angry and hurt I walked back into our bedroom and plopped down in a chair. I could feel the emptiness searching for a place to settle as it floated around in my chest.  “This is my life!  I’m married to a woman that doesn’t even want me anywhere near her!  And if I went out and cheated, then I’d be out of order.”  I picked up some mail that was lying on the nightstand and started going through it to try and keep from becoming extremely depressed. 

About twenty minutes later Sheila came out of the bathroom in red, white and black dog paw printed flannel pajamas.  I could smell an apple aroma coming from here freshly showered body.  The scent just made my condition worse.  “What’s the point of her even buying that stuff?  Is she trying to torture me?  Why would she put on apples if she’s not willing to let me have a bite?”  I couldn’t take it anymore!  I was at the point of feeling like I was in hell so I decided enough was enough and went back downstairs with the kids.  I figured maybe a little television would take my mind away from my problem wife. 

When I entered the living room India and J.R. were on the floor building what looked like a house out of some blocks. I couldn’t help but notice how much India favored my younger sister Jessica when she was around India’s age. Thick curly jet black hair in two pig tails that hung to her shoulders.  Her strong features and dark-skinned complexion was inherited from me.  When I was a boy my two sister’s nick-named me Hershey because I was so dark; especially in the summer time.  J.R., on the other hand, is as light as his mother although many say he favors me in looks. 

“Daddy, look what I did!” India said proudly. 

“Is it just what you did, or did both you and J.R. do it together?” 

“Well, J.R. too, but I did it mostly.” She announced now showing off her new missing tooth. 

“Then include him.  That’s not fair for you to take all the credit for something the two of you did, now is it?”

“Sorry…” 

“That’s okay, just be fair next time.”  I examined the block creation closely.  “This is pretty good, Baby.  You two did a great job with making your house.”   

“It’s a store, Daddy!”  She corrected. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Honey…the store.”  I hate when that happens.  I should have learned my lesson by now; instead of guessing ask what it was.  I tried to fix it so that I wouldn’t discourage her creative energy.  “Well, where is the parking lot?  That’s probably why I didn’t recognize that it was a store.  Why don’t you two make a parking lot so the customers can park their cars while they’re shopping?” 

She smacked herself on the forehead pretty hard with the palm of her hand.  “Why didn’t I think of that?  The people do need to put their cars someplace.”  Then she started to spread blocks out next to the block store for the parking lot. 

India is such an intelligent little girl, and John, Jr. follows behind her like a little robot.  He is crazy about his big sister and does just about everything she says.  Sometimes she’ll have him doing her dirty work like when she had him steal a box of fruit snacks from the cabinet, then sat in his room eating them and left the wrappers underneath his bed. 

When Sheila was cleaning she found all the wrappers and decided to question India first just for India to say “I didn’t eat no fruit snacks and put the wrappers under J.R.’s bed” when Sheila never told her where the wrappers were found.

I love my kids to death.  I just wish that wife of mines was acting like the woman I married eight years ago, then my life would be almost perfect. 

After a while, Sheila came down to get the kids ready for their bath.  I was left alone in the room to wrestle with my thoughts as I clicked through channel after channel. 

About a half an hour later Indy skipped back into the living room smelling like fresh strawberries. “Hey Daddy!” she sang.  “What you watching…?” 

“You all clean!”  I asked. 

“Yep..!”

“Squeaky clean…?”

“Yep..!” 

“Let me see!”  I grabbed her and rubbed my hand over her forehead.  She laughed hysterically.  “Yep, you squeak.” 

“Told you!” she uttered. 

“Yeah Sweetie, you did.” 

After finishing up her giggles from our play she asked again “What you watching Daddy?” 

“Oh, you mean, on TV?”

“Daddy, stop playing…”  She giggled even more.

“Oh, alright…it’s called Family Feud………my life story,” I mumbled out the last part not meaning to say it aloud. 

“It’s a story?”  She asked confused. 

“Oh, no…no Honey,” I corrected. “It’s what they call a game show.  People go on the show to see how smart they are and win money for their family by playing against another family.” 

“Oh,” she said as if she really understood it now.  She snuggled under my arm and we watched two episodes of Family Feud trying our best to guess the answers. 

After the second show had gone off, I glanced over at the clock on the table.  “Indy, its’ 9 o’clock.  That means its bedtime for kids all over the world! Now give me a kiss and go to bed.” 

“Aw, Daddy, just one more show; please-e-e-s…?”  She begged. 

“Nope, that’s not going to work.”  I assured her.  “Go to bed like I said, okay.  I’ll see you in the morning at breakfast when we rise and shine with the sun.  Now go, Sweetheart!”  I kissed her on the forehead and pointed her in the direction to leave the room. 

“Aw….” She continued her complaining as she began to head reluctantly towards the upstairs. 

Then I heard Sheila coming down.  Indy, now following closely behind Sheila, re-entered the living room with her mother as if she had forgotten what I’d just told her to do. 

India began pulling on Sheila’s arm, “Mama, can I have a cookie?”    

“Didn’t I just tell you to go to bed?” I yelled. 

“Baby you can have a cookie.  Just make sure you put the top back on the cookie jar and use a napkin so the crumbs won’t get all over the kitchen table.”  Sheila blew me off like I was an unwanted guest in the house. 

Trying my best to be careful with my words, “Sheila, I just told her to go to bed before you came down the stairs.” 

Sheila then turned her back on me and ushered Indy in the direction of the kitchen letting me know that she was deliberately ignoring what I’d said.  “Honey, go get a cookie…!” 

Oh, I was so pissed at her. “Sheila, why do you do that?  You always undermined me when I tell the kids something!” 

“John you are too mean.  A little cookie won’t hurt her!” 

“It’s not about the cookie, it’s about her listening to what I say and you brushing me off when I tell her to do something!” 

 “John, go to bed….” 

“So what I say doesn’t matter?”

“A little cookie won’t hurt her!”

“It’s not about the stupid cookie!” 

Sheila changed her volume to a whisper “We are not going to argue about this now.  I just put J.R. to sleep, so let’s not wake him up over some foolish argument please.” 

“Well, why not!  It’s not like I’ll be getting any tonight…wake him up!  Better yet, bring him in the room with us!  I’m sure he’ll fall right back to sleep when he sees that nothing is going on in there!”

“Don’t start with that again, John.” 

“Sheila…you are incredibly impossible!” 

“John, all this over a stupid cookie and you call me impossible!” 

“Un-freaking-believable…!  You can’t be that psycho, can you?  Where is the Sheila I married because I don’t want this one?  You really don’t get it?” 

“What I get is that your grown behind is upset because I let our six year old have a cookie before bed!” She rolled her eyes, pushed pass me and started to pick up the kids toys. 

Frustrated and at a loss of words, I was beyond pissed.  I don’t think I’d ever been this mad before.  I had to leave from around her before something bad happened, so I stormed upstairs leaving both of them behind.  “And I’m supposed to live happily ever after with this woman?  Yeah, I’m really going to need some divine intervention because I don’t deserve this at all!”