I went out of town 2 weeks ago and M watched The Dog for me. It was a kind favor but I know he also appreciated the company since he didn't have his son that weekend. When I dropped The Dog off, I noticed that he had almost no groceries. A container of wilted blueberries, a can of beans, maybe some questionable milk. So when I came back to town I pick up several bags of food since L was going back to school the next Monday.
M met me at the house and I unpacked the groceries with him. I showed him where things went and I gave him ideas for packing lunch. We discussed meals that would be easy to prepare (and I had sent him an email on all of this earlier as well.)
He seemed so fucking helpless and I felt conflicted. I was irate that he wasn't taking care of these things. That he never did. That he once asked me where the measuring cups were. It's like, "THERE ARE ONLY 4 FUCKING DRAWERS IN THIS KITCHEN AND THIS IS YOUR KITCHEN! YOU SHOULD KNOW WHERE THE SHIT IN YOUR KITCHEN IS!"
My blood boils at the mere thought.
But his helplessness also made me feel sad. Like I wanted to take care of him. A friend who is experiencing marriage issues lamented that she feels like she is her husband's mother. There is a fine line between nurturing because you want to be and mothering because nothing gets done unless you do.
No comments:
Post a Comment