I took a beautiful woman to dinner the other night. Anybody watching would have seen us holding hands across the dinner table, laughing and joking. In short, we were having a great time. I looked into her eyes and felt things that only a man infatuated with a woman can feel. I must tell you, she was a real knockout. On a scale of one to ten, she was at least a fifteen.
Who was this wonderful woman, you ask. My wife, Lanette.
You see, I have a pretty life. Church stuff, work stuff, school stuff. I seem to be gone a bunch.
The person who suffers the most when things get crazy is not me. Oh sure, I get tired once in a while, and I do the prerequisite whining about how busy I am. But the person who feels it the most is Lanette.
She began to look at me funny when I walked into the house after one of my meetings. At first I thought she was angry at me. Then I realized it was just that she didn’t recognize me anymore.
So I took her to dinner. We got a booth and laughed and joked and had a grand time. We talked about serious things, too. About our kids, our lives, and work. But mostly, we just got to know each other again.
Like most men, if left to my own devices, I am pretty much a barbarian. If it wasn’t for my wife, my boys and I would have been eating leftovers out of a big Tupperware bowl, using our hands because there was no clean silverware. Our thinking is that it is easier to buy new dishes than to clean the old ones. That is why paper plates were invented. They originally had nothing to do with helping busy ladies, they were made to keep men and boys from being poisoned by eating food from plates that hadn’t been washed since Noah made his big boat.
My wife is the one who introduced us guys to the idea that bodily functions are not good manners. Who knew? If you could belch the alphabet, wouldn’t you want to show your buddies, and especially your wife? Of course you would. You want those closest to you to share in your moments of triumph. Well, my wife doesn’t care. We had to learn a new phrase in our house, “Don’t do that, Mom thinks it’s gross.” So much for the annual booger contest!
The problem is, I don’t like that barbarian guy anymore. I like the good husband my wife wants me to be. He’s a lot nicer guy.
So men, take a hint from your Uncle Jer’. Take your wife to dinner. Get a sitter for the kids, buy ‘em all pizza, and take your honey out. Go see a movie, take a walk in a park, sit on a bench and hold hands like kids who are dating. Go to the mall and window shop, share your hopes and dreams and fears with each other. In short, remember why you fell in love with her in the first place.
Is it worth it? You bet! Lanette and I went to get ice cream and sat outside eating it. Neither of us was in a hurry to get home. Home had responsibilities and phone calls and work. We were together, and nothing else mattered. It was glorious.
There is something that God put into every woman that makes her want to feel cherished and loved. Too often men confuse sex with love. I tell couples in marriage counseling that sex doesn’t start at eleven o’clock in the evening. It begins at 7:30 a.m. when you kiss her goodbye. It begins at 3:15 p.m. when you call her from work to let her know that you were thinking of her and just wanted to let her know you love her. Men are microwaves, women are Crock Pots. Think about that for a while!
This post took kind of a racy turn, didn’t it? That’s okay, God invented the physical part of our relationships. I’m tired of the world having the corner on the market when it comes to love and desire. They show it without any morality or consequences. God invented it, and He put it here for us to enjoy. Man and woman, husband and wife. Sex anywhere else is wrong, dangerous, and sinful.
Already thinking about my next date with that babe… Jerry