Learning to Communicate (Or Not)
As a new husband, I was learning how to communicate effectively with my new bride. Granted, Andrea and I had dated — and lived together — for two years before getting married. Still, learning how to communicate was, and remains, a process.
There were several occasions where I would say something and, judging by the look on Andrea’s face, she had definitely not received whatever I said the way I had intended. I learned to stop and ask, “What did you hear me say?” The answer was almost never what I thought I’d said.
So I began learning to use words more carefully. More deliberately.
This next story is not an example of that growth.
I think I’m funny. I mean really funny. I crack myself up regularly. I often laugh out loud at my own thoughts — thoughts that usually stay safely inside my head because they are wildly inappropriate for public consumption.
At the time, we were still painting our new house. On this particular day, I was working in our walk-in closet. Andrea and I were standing there talking about the upcoming move when she shared how exhausted she was. She hurt everywhere. She had morning sickness that wasn’t just mornings — it was noon sickness, afternoon sickness, and evening sickness. She was smoked.
She also wasn’t feeling pretty. She told me she felt huge. Gross.
Her exact words as she walked out of the closet were that she felt like a big fat cow.
I immediately tried to reassure her. I told her she was beautiful, amazing, and even more beautiful as an expectant mother. Moms are hot. She walked away, unconvinced, and I returned to painting the closet.
A few moments later, my brain betrayed me.
A thought popped into my head. It was absurd. It was inappropriate.
And it was hilarious.
Alone — or so I thought — I let out a quiet “mooo.”
Then I laughed at myself.
From the doorway came a soft sniffling.
I turned to see my incredible mother-to-be standing there, crying. Apparently, she had turned around and walked back into the room just in time to hear the one sound that should never come out of a husband’s mouth.
Let this be a lesson:
No matter how funny you think you are, sometimes it’s better not to share. Not with anyone.
And occasionally — especially in closets — not even with yourself
