ok boss

I’ve been thinking a lot lately of my next husband. What he would be like. I have decided that I would like an Irishman. One who is angry at the world with me and not at me for what the world is. I can’t be responsible for everything and I can’t control everything. I would like to, but alas, it is impossible. I would like a man who is big, maybe a tatoo here or there, nice arms are a must. I would like some decorative chunky jewelery too. No sissy stuff, maybe just a nice ring would do it for me. But the arms are a must. Oh, and an Irish accent. I think it is good to be reminded that you have a foreigner. One of the things that saves me from divorcing Helio at times is his accent. He can say things like “yea, well, sorry bout that” when I am coming down on his ass for not calling me for days when I go 2 hours north to visit my parents for a week (with his two sons, one of whom is less than 3 weeks old) With an accent, it actually makes me giggle. Thank God that was on the phone. I didn’t want him to see that I was actually entertained by his apology.
My Irishman would drink whiskey, like to travel and not get pissed about it during planning, while in transit, and then complain about not having any money upon return. I want him to be clean, not leave his nasty crusty socks on the floor, and please, please, please, don’t fold one hard yellowed sock into the other and leave it hamper. That only means I have to touch it longer when throwing it in the washing machine. Dirty socks have become my all time hated habit of a man. I want my Irishman to have interesting friends, the kind of friends that I would actually like to hang out with or go to the bar with. I can’t think of any that Helio has that I would actually try to find a babysitter for.
Helio does have some great saving graces, he is socially excellent. He charms a room with his Mexican-ness. Old ladies fall in love with him. Men want to bust out the tequila. Hell, I have seen women my age get drunk and rub all over him. This doesn’t bother me oddly. I feel flattered. When that stuff is actually happening, he acts unaware, the insanity is that he is so completely aware. He is so much smarter than he puts off. He wants to appear to be the easy-going, not a worry in sight kind of man. Its just not the way it is.
My husband is so very intuitive. I have told people over and over that he has a homing device built right in, he knows where I am all the time. During the 14 months that he was gone, I would have a melt downs often. There were countless moments that I would decide its all over and would think, yes, I will need a divorce where magically, he would call my cell. I have been at the grocery store, the liquor store, the park, the mechanic where he just shows up, yet, he can’t figure out where I put the peanut butter last. See, he just wants to play dumb. It is a very typical Mexican trait that I have seen his whole family do. Why? What do you gain?
I have learned to not respond. I used to get mad and go into a tirade about where something was or how to do something. Now, when he asks me again to describe what it was that I needed from Home Depot on his way out the door I just don’t respond. It’s easier. He knows, he just doesn’t want to turn on his short term memory. Or if I do respond, he gets the “I hate you and wish that you would burst into a million flames right here in front of my eyes look” and walks out the door saying something like “ok boss” door slam… Beautiful.
My next husband will be angry, but not angry at me. He will want to talk to me. He will be an intellect. He will read- the newspaper, which he will keep me up to date so I don’t report old news to my friends days after events occur & books. I want someone to talk to about a good book. And all of the work that needs to get done around the house, I will hire it done. Enough of the half ass jobs and the patch work. I am a designer, I see the details, they matter to me. I’m not super picky, I just want a tile floor that doesn’t have cracked tiles and when the plaster ceiling needs repair, that doesn’t mean that you put a piece of sheetrock over the hole. My Irishman will have common sense. He won’t stand in a tub filled with water up to his knees and while using a hairdryer to tighten plastic over a window. He will think for himself and on occasion for me.