When the Mothman cometh, the wife goeth

(Warning: This column contains spoilers for "A Beautiful Mind" and "The Mothman Prophecies.")

Sometimes things happen in a woman's life that make her wonder whether her marriage is all it should be.

I've experienced a series of them lately. You be the judge.

My married friends Deidre and John have crafted a symbol of their love for each other: a "W" with an upside-down heart in the crevice. Put it all together and you have "Wild at Heart," the movie they were watching when they fell in love.

For Christmas, John had a jeweler cast the design in gold with an amethyst heart, Deidre's favorite gem. Meanwhile, Deidre traveled to three cities and searched the Internet for the perfect watch. When she found it, she had it inscribed with John's pet name and a statement of her love. They cried when they opened each other's gifts.

Last Christmas, I bought The Other Half a sweater and a $12 mini bottle of CKBe at a drug store. He bought me a Conair foot bath and nine packs of Dentyne Ice.

A few weeks after John and Deidre ecstatically told us about their gifts, Mr. Half and I watched the fact-based "A Beautiful Mind."

John Nash Jr., the leading man, was a mathematical genius whose schizophrenia caused him to live a fantasy life. At one point, he believed his wife, Alicia, was trying to thwart his anti-Russian activity: reading newspapers and magazines looking for secret messages to "sleeper" agents. He actually attacked her under the direction of voices in his head.

When the psychiatrist, Dr. Rosen, showed up to take him to the mental hospital, his wife declined to commit him and launched into a long soliloquy about how their love was real.

Frankly, I would have said, "Honey, get in the car with Dr. Rosen. I'll come on visiting day."

Of course, Alicia Nash had seen her husband solve complex mathematical equations and wow students at MIT. She had some basis to believe he could study his mental illness and find its pattern, thus the solution.

All I'm sure my husband can do is recount the World Wrestling Federation plot line for the last two decades.

I'm afraid I'm more like the woman in "The Mothman Prophecies" who finally left her husband after he started receiving directions from the drain in the bathroom sink. He was a frozen, lifeless mothsicle within a few days, the unfortunate eventuality of many a married man suddenly left to his own devices.

Not that Mr. Half would be by my side should anything happen to my mental processes. I received an early indication of his loyalty when I did something a little odd at a restaurant last week.

For some reason, I become fascinated with the people around me at restaurants. I think it comes after nearly seven years of marriage, when all your dinner conversation was pretty much used up two years prior.

A boy, maybe 13 years old, at the table next to mine was putting on a giant plastic bib. "You should try one of these, Daddy," he said.

Is he really going to wear that thing? I wondered. Will his father put one on?

Suddenly, a female voice penetrated my stupor.

"See, Joey?" it said. "That woman is staring at you."

Yikes! She was talking about me! I was the big freakish staring woman. "I'm sorry," I stammered. "I must have been daydreaming."

Joey's mother shook her head sadly. "Don't worry. He's used to it because of the way he acts."

Mr. Half clearly wanted to die. His face turned purple, and he suddenly became very interested in the wine list, although we'd already ordered.

Now, if it even looks like I'm starting to stare at someone, he snaps his fingers and says, "Over here, Heidi."

In Florida, there was a law called the Baker Act, which makes it easier to commit a person to a mental hospital involuntarily, at least for an observation period. When I covered the crime beat in Santa Rosa County, many a source's phone call to my office contained the phrase "and then I was Baker Acted."

I'm glad they don't have that law here.

It could be used as a marital weapon.

Heidi Hall is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.