The Perfect Husband
What is it with women and pictures. You give them a camera and they turn into Katie Kodak. Talk about being able to multi task! Left to their own, men would take a cruise and return with a half dozen snapshots. Half their victims would have a head missing or a fork in their mouth.
Women, however, come home with a moment by moment pictorial history of life on the seven seas. After our recent return from cruising, we have pictures of the engine room and food that was simply minding its own business. We have pictures of people taking pictures of people taking pictures. We have pictures of where the ship was going, of where the ship had been and one, of where she thought the ship, should be going. We have pictures of every passenger on the ship and the children they left at home. I've been home for a month and my body is still stuck in pose mode. I look like a card board cut out with a botox smile. I don't remember the cruise at all, but she has six thousand pictures that prove I was there and I obviously had a great time, because I'm grinning like a compliant baboon in every one of them.
Photo cruises are bad enough, but, enduring the return days perusing the pictures of the wonderful time I had, takes longer than the cruise itself. How does that happen? Women love pictures. I think, they like the pictures they take of us, more than they like us. As a matter of fact, In my next life, I've decided to come back as a picture of myself! After showing off pictures to everyone she knows, its no wonder everybody wants to cruise. Look how happy I am. The women think I'm smiling because we fell in love again and the men think I'm smiling because, well you know what the men think.
This is where the wonder of women and multi tasking so intrigues me though. We ate twenty one meals, we ate twenty one in between meals, we played bingo, we went dancing, we went to the casino, she changed outfits 71 times and I changed twice, we went potty at least twenty one times, we slept, we took naps, we went to twenty one shows, we read books and we talked to every one in Mexico except the Pancho Villa. How the hell, did she find time to take six thousand pictures, get every one on the planet to pose and do all the stuff that these pictures say we did?
We have pictures of things we didn't do and places we never went. We have pictures of people who were never there and pictures of things that never happened. For the life of me, I don't remember doing half the stuff she says we did, but I know I did because she has a picture of me doing them. Next year, she can take my cardboard cut out with her and I can just look at the pictures when she gets back.
My cut out is more cooperative, he's a gifted listener, he has a perpetual smile and he fits in a suit case. As a matter of fact, he's the perfect husband!
