My husband has given me the talk already ... in fact, I think I've gotten it twice, maybe three times. It's 5:30 p.m. and the family is getting restless.
"Dear, I know you love your garden and tending to it and looking at it. But you're neglecting some things - like suppers."
My first reaction is defensive-mode. What do you mean? I always fix something for the girls. Ramen noodles, chicken noodle soup, salads - and on a good night - fishsticks! The kids are outside, the teenager is gone and somtimes I postpone that whole idea of "dinner."
But I know what he's getting at. My husband has an absent wife on most nights from 5:30-7:00 p.m. Once I get in the door from work, I quickly don my garden gear: baggy shorts, ratty T-shirt and my knock-off Crocs. I strap on my iPod or radio headset and listen to the Twins game while I go about my business of weeding, introspection and frustration.
"I'll do better," I tell him.
But I've heard the girls fuss a little more too.
"Mom, aren't we going to eat"?
"You love that garden more than me!"
"I'm going to eat at the neighbor's house."
My sister used to tell me that I needed a wife. I think she's right - I'm now ready for one. And if you find one for me, tell her to put the roast in the oven .... I gotta move this iris before the Twins game comes on.