Never Let Your Wife See You In Your Underwear

Sometimes the smallest things in life can have the largest outcomes. For instance, in order to better focus on the ministry that Beth and I are working on regarding faith, growth, and marriage, I have changed jobs. But that story has a ‘small thing’. See, I loved the job that I had. Of course there were some serious draw backs to it, much like any job that anyone has ever had. Overall, I enjoyed what I did. However, the schedule was awful and last minute changes were frequent. Nothing could ever be planned in advance of more than 12 hours. Not business 12 hours, real life 12 hours.

So I found a new job. New jobs require background checks. Don’t worry, I have nothing on my record. That you can find.

My background check was submitted on a Monday. It could have been submitted on a Friday, but the system was down. There was also a deadline for the background to come back in order for me to start training in the month of April. I missed that deadline. By one business day. It was only one business day.

See…I had already put in my two weeks at my old job.  A week and a half prior.  And there’s a thing about missing a deadline to start your new job that month.  You get to start it the next month.

There were no hard feelings, though.  In reality, no one could have done anything different.  I have had the incredible joy of experiencing sickness this month without having to call out of work. I have also been able to work on the ebook which I have had the outline finished about 3 months now. And I’ve been able to work on the new website. I’ve also had plenty of days in which I could literally do whatever I wanted.

I didn’t shower the first day.

I also didn’t clothe myself. The idea was, “I’m at home, who cares? No one.”

My wife came home that afternoon from a busy day and I could see the exhaustion in her eyes as she walked past the dirty dishes to see her barely clothed, Cheeto covered husband playing the video game Destiny. Yes. In one day of freedom, I became my old self again. But it also slapped me in the face, so I did the only thing I could do. I screamed, “Long live the Patriarchy!”

But the sad realization was, Beth worked all day, and came home to something she didn’t deserve. Namely, a husband she didn’t deserve.

On our days off, we men can do whatever we want in our castle. We can operate a machine that drives a razor sharp blade, spinning fast enough to make coleslaw for Busch Stadium in under a minute. We can go to Auto Zone and talk about the newest Combobulating Spinafactor and how the 1979 Buicks have an inherent problem with theirs falling off. We can walk around the house wearing nothing but yesterday’s underwear, carrying nothing but an ice cold refreshing Canada Dry Ginger Ale.  I love ginger ale.

But is that what your wife deserves?

Not the ginger ale thing.  The other thing.

Like a vast majority of husbands, I greatly enjoy the visual aspect of my wife. I enjoy it even more when she wears nice shoes and she has her hair done. Who am I to give her yesterday’s underwear? What image am I portraying? That she brings out the best in me? That this is what she married and she better get over it? That this is how I feel about her? This is how she makes me feel?

I’ve heard man after man complain that their wife doesn’t dress up anymore. That she let herself go. We can point out that weird role of fat that is starting to hang over her back bra strap, while we suck it in to fit into our size 46 jeans. When we wear jeans, that is.

I want to give you guys a challenge, right now. Show your wife that you love her. Don’t give her whatever fell out of bed. Don’t give her the nonsense that you are too tired to worry about this. I get it you most likely work. But the first thing you do when you get home, is it to wash your face, or check the score? Do you change your work shirt to something that doesn’t smell like fart, or IF you hug her does she go run and change? This week, try to focus more on giving your wife something clean to look at. Don’t let her see you in just your underwear.

My name goes here,

JT

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270H