ONE PROUD WIFE
ONE PROUD WIFE
By: Masked Maiden
There were some wives who constantly fussed about their
husbands, hardly ever saying one positive word in their favor. Their husbands
were lazy miscreants who never helped them around the house or with the
children. Romance was a forgotten conception; they were no longer treated to
dinners at a fancy restaurant or given bouquets of their favorite flowers. They
never had another adult to talk to, aside from co-workers and friends who were
busy with their own families. No, all their husbands ever did was leave for
work, come home, sit in front of the television, and wait for dinner to be
served.
Usagi heard such conversations every day during her lunch break. One of the
other teachers at the day care would mention something her husband did. Then
two or three more teachers joined in, and it became another husband-bashing
session. It was terrible, in Usagi’s opinion. She understood everyone had the
right and the need to vent their frustrations, but this was different. Much different.
Maybe Usagi was making too big of a deal out of the issue, but in her eyes, it
was a kind of corruption. It was a club as well, a
club built upon distortions of the truth her co-workers chose to believe in.
She sometimes wondered if they ever thought of why their husbands never seemed
to help them. Part of it had to do with society and how they were raised. Part
of it had to do with one simple fact: a lot of them worked hard and rigorous
hours, some in factories or construction or some other occupation of hard
labor. Not everyone had cushiony jobs. These husbands were providing for their
families the best way they could, and so they didn’t have the energy to help
their wives when they came home.
Was it a little unfair? It was, and so Usagi could understand where the
frustration was coming from. But her co-workers didn’t realize how such talk
was hurtful and embarrassing. She would never think of talking about Mamoru in
such a way. She loved him and respected him too much to do that. And if she had
a problem with something he did, she talked about it with him before she ever
mentioned it to her friends, and certainly before she mentioned it to her
co-workers. (In truth, however, she barely said a word to the other teachers
outside the classrooms, and they barely said anything to her.) These problems
her co-workers had with their husbands couldn’t be solved overnight, but it
would be a start if they spoke to their husbands instead of
speak about them.
Who knows? Maybe another part of the problem was: their husbands acted such a
way because that’s what their wives had started to expect.
One day, one of the teachers glanced up and noticed Usagi sitting at the end of
the table, away from the rest of the group, quietly eating her sandwich. She
tipped her head and raised her voice slightly, so Usagi would hear her.
“Chiba-sensei, what’s your husband like?”
Another teacher piped in, “Yeah, she never talks about him, does she?”
“She probably never sees him.” One more commented.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, he’s a doctor of some sort.”
“Oh…”
“Well, at least they have money.”
“We would have money, too, but my husband is always throwing ours away on
lottery tickets.”
“With my husband, it’s fishing equipment.”
Usagi was quiet as she chewed her food. She listened to their comments and
tried to think of the perfect response. She could talk about Mamoru working
nights at the emergency room at least one week every month; when he returned
home the next morning, he would bring her breakfast from her favorite diner.
The two of them would sit together for a few minutes, with their two baby boys,
before he went to bed. She could talk about last Saturday morning, when Mamoru
took the twins to her parents’ house, so she could sleep in. She could talk
about the times he chose to stay home with his family instead of going out with
his co-workers, to some club or bar…
“Chiba-sensei?”
Usagi swallowed her food and looked up. “Yes?”
The teacher was now slightly annoyed, from feeling she’d been ignored. “What’s
your husband like?”
She and the rest of the teachers were dumbfounded when they saw Usagi smile.
Yes, she was actually smiling, with pride nonetheless, her face now glowing
like a warm candle in a dimly lit room. But what completely astonished them was
her answer to their question.
“My Mamo-chan? He’s my heroic prince.”
