My Husband is my Third Child
Whenever I meet new people, they always ask the typical questions. And when they find out I’m a mom, they inevitably ask, “How many children do you have?” While I’ve only physically given birth to 2 children, I almost always respond that I have 3. I have 2 precious little girls and then I have one giant, goofball of a boy for my husband.
While he’s not some useless buffoon, there have been plenty of times where I have questioned my own sanity and wondered am I just too uptight or is he behaving like one of the kids. But after talking to other wives out there, I realize it is more likely an issue all of us with husbands have that over time, does indeed chip away at our own sanity.
When we lived abroad in Asia, it was a very customary thing for the men to go out drinking with their bosses. I know it’s totally taboo here to get completely shnockered in front of your boss and coworkers but over there, if you don’t keep drinking cup after cup of beer, wine or an alcohol so strong that it beats vodka and can strip paint off the walls, then you look weak and unworthy.
Having survived my college years to graduate from one of the biggest party schools in the country, I eventually learned how to handle my alcohol. My husband never got this lesson. One night, he had a dinner with his boss and coworkers. He staggered into our home well past 1am after banging on the door like a loon. I opened the door to find him standing there, his shirt in rags.
“My God! What’s happened?!?” I shout as he stumbles forth, lurching like some zombie from the netherworld. As it turns out, my husband forgot his key and the call box on our building was broken yet again. He couldn’t call me because the battery on his phone had died. So he banged on the building’s metal door until he enraged the crazy old guy on the first floor who did not know my husband. Thinking he was a robber, the man tried to fight my husband until his wife told him to knock it off and go to bed.
My husband can be a bit childish but one thing he’s not is a liar. As I go to find him something else to change into, he begins to vomit robustly onto our floors. I should mention while this is happening, I am very pregnant with our second child and now our first child is screaming and crying because “Daddy is sick.”
He spent that whole night vomiting everywhere in our home. No surface was safe. I spent the entire night cleaning up after him. And to add insult to injury, during this whole fiasco, he’d lost his watch that I’d bought him as a birthday gift in our first year of marriage.
So you see, my husband is indeed just like having a 3rd child. When people ask if I’ll ever try for a boy, I tell them no way. “I already have one…him!” I say with a smile.