Six months ago, I reported my husband had been replaced by some kind of a Mr. Do Right-Dr. Feel Good drone. I'm happy to report he's still missing and I don't mind.
Cooperative. Romantic. Understanding.
Those are the words I used to describe the man who invaded my husband's body back in January. If you remember, I wrote about how I now have a man who is willing to keep the kids home on his day off. I also told you how much I like a husband who notices and appreciates a new shade of lipstick and who talks freely about how in love he is with his wife.
That's every woman's dream.
The clone-drone-Everyman is very similar to the guy I fell in love with and married. The new guy, who retained the name Patrick L. Buck, also smokes and enjoys videogames and loud music. Like my husband, he's not a frequent church-goer but does hold many Christian beliefs.
But despite those lingering similarities, which I still hope to change, I know I'm dealing with a different Patrick.
Not that I mind. I mean, really, it's very easy to appreciate a man who voluntarily takes a child to get his hair cut BEFORE the boy's hair begins to roll up into 1,000 separate curls on his head.
And what woman in her right mind turns down a legitimate offer (not to be confused with an intentional attempt to ward off any future requests) to do the laundry? At the laundromat?
That's what I'm faced with here. What I thought was going to be a passing Mr. Do Right phase six months ago has turned into a responsible, mostly considerate husband. It's a nice change of pace.
Although I'm enjoying the small considerations that are making my life as a working mother and wife so much easier, I must admit I'm still waiting for the big question to spring at me from some dark corner.
It's sort of like the Elvis or Tupac Shakur phenomena some Americans have. They just won't accept the fact these men are dead, so they continue to have sightings of them in very odd places.
I've been awaiting a Patrick sighting since January. I figured he had hatched a plot to get me to agree to a major purchase of some kind.
Because he was essentially acting out of character, I just knew there was a new videogame, car stereo system or other electronic gadget out on the market that required a joint signature on the credit application.
I still believe that to some degree. He hasn't asked for anything yet, but maybe it's something that really costs a lot of money that he's just waiting for the right moment to slip his request in.
Here's the thing -- If this really is a Fool the Wife tactic it's a good one, and it just might get him what it wants. I like to think I'm a fair person, but I'm not unwilling to accept bribes.
Besides, I might just be able to milk this one long enough to get my drone to pick up some new habits.
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