Over the weekend my wife and I were out of town visiting the coast. It was a nice day, despite the fact that there was little to no sun, but something happened that nearly ruined the day, at least for me.
One of our favorite places to visit is the Ventura harbor and, this particular past weekend they were having ‘Mermaid days’, which we missed, as it was on Sunday and our visit was on Saturday. Despite having arrived the day before it seemed that a few people were already getting into the spirit of things, as there was a lovely young lady sitting in the courtyard of the harbor dressed in full Ariel costume (as in, The Little Mermaid). This included a hairpiece of very bright, very red, very wonderful hair.
Now, anyone who knows me well knows I have a thing for red hair. It just ‘does it’ for me. It’s like icing on a cake, it just makes things, well, better – for the most part. The few red headed ladies we know are not very ladylike or very appealing to the eye, so there are a few caveats. I don’t just start drooling over every red headed girl I see. My wife, however, does not like being a redhead. In fact, in our twenty years of marriage I can think of only one time that she voluntarily dyed her hair red, and even then it was the shortest lasting most wash-outable dye she could buy. All that, despite the fact that it makes her look divine.
That being said, whilst watching the Ariel look alike take pictures with a baby who’s parents handed it over, some remarks were made between my wife and I about her refusal to go red, my adoration of red hair and how I think she could pull it off when this little conversation took place:
Her: “Knowing the people we know who are redheads and how they act and look, why would you want me to do that?”
Me: “Well just because they are like that doesn’t mean you have to be. Besides, I like it.”
Her: “So that’s what it comes down to, huh? Your selfishness?”
My selfishness? MY Selfishness? This after 1)giving up my plans for the day because she wanted to go to the coast (I had planned on another weapon build), 2)buying her breakfast, 3)buying her travelling snacks, 4)attempting to buy her a nice dress at some of the harbor shops (of which we found none that she would wear).
Ladies, don’t treat your husbands this way. Yes, he married you partially for your looks, and he no doubt likes the way you look, but most men have a ‘thing’ that drives them wild, be it hair color, a piece of clothing or even something like an accent. Husbands do a lot that I think wives take for granted. Now before you turn things around and bring up how much wives do that husbands take for granted I challenge you to ask around about who does what. Often times I have heard both men and women treat a mans provision of food, shelter and clothing as ‘his job’. It’s what men are ‘supposed to do’. And rightly so! Unfortunately, though, people seem to go out of their way to keep those from being celebrated as any type of achievement. As if it doesn’t matter that you sacrifice your time, your body and your mind to provide for your family. Women, on the other hand, are celebrated for EVERYTHING. For being mothers, for washing dishes, for doing laundry – the hardest job in the world! Not only are the celebrated, but their husbands are expected to serve additional recognition on mothers day, anniversaries, valentines day, arbor day, the list goes on.
I think my wife had it backwards. Truth be told, I think it took more selfishness for her to shut me down than it took for me to ask her to change her hair color. I could have bit into her about it, but I didn’t feel like spending the rest of the day with a sulking, brooding wife.
Consider your husbands wants, even some of the outlandish ones. After all, when his knees start to ache, his eyes grow dim and his heart starts to slow it’s likely in part from years of serving his families needs by working eight to twelve hours a day in a mind numbing, body destroying job. The least you could do is dye your hair.