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Ron Jackson's Perspective
The Sunday Journal -
Think
Kankakee, Illinois
June 20, 1999
I can dress myself! |
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When it comes to wives, I have a great one!
Besides being a very nice person, she is a pretty good friend, a
wonderful companion - and the best mother any husband could want.
Not that I was looking for a mother when I got married, since my mother
is still alive and well.
No, the mothering did not reveal itself right away in our
relationship. It seems to have started about the time I turned
forty and could no longer put together an acceptable wardrobe. Gym
shoes I had owned years before I met her were suddenly unsuitable.
Perfectly good ten-year-old underwear started disappearing from my
closet and wrinkle-free trousers started appearing - and they were
actually wrinkle-free.
Initially, I said nothing of the subtle changes. I knew they were
done with the best of intentions. However, a man has to be a man
and draw the line somewhere.
So feeling pretty confident of my latest fashion selection, I check
myself in the mirror. But after admiring the fit and appreciating
the feel of my favorite black dress pants and off-white shirt, I
suddenly find myself floored by my mom's (wife's) screaming, "You
dress like a forty-year-old man!". "I am a
forty-year-old man and darn proud of it!", I shot back.
"And I can play basketball for three hours straight and not feel
pain for 24 hours and I still have 30 of my own teeth!"
"Shut up", she said (sounding like my mother again), "and
put these on. These go better with those shoes anyway."
"These shoes", I mumbled under my breath, "are the only
dress shoes I have. The other 38 pairs in the closet belong to
you."
As I stepped into the blue pants my mom (wife) had selected, she noticed
my faded, tattered, green underwear. "Why are you wearing
green with blue pants?", she begged to know. "Those
are dull and they only have two stitches holding them up and I just
bought you six new pairs last month. This is a shame Ron.
Here they are in your dresser still in the packages", she
sighed. If she had called me by my first, middle and last name I
would have exploded. No one calls me by my full name but my real
mom!
Speaking of my real mom, the last time I was redressed by the woman in
my life was prom night 1974. Mom insisted that I have on clean
underwear in case of an accident. It was a jinx because I did have
an accident and my underwear was not clean after I got out of the car!
But I relinquished all control and dressed as my wife suggested, even
though the pants she had chosen made my rear look flat and I still
looked like a forty-year-old man. Then I drew my line.
"There is no way I am going to wear anything bright yellow, green,
orange or red. If it's not blue, brown, black or gray - forget
it!"
As we were leaving the house, she asked my opinion of her outfit. "Do
I look fat in this?" I am over forty and I ain't no
fool. "You look marvelous mom," I whispered.
It's 6 am as I recall that night and too early for her to see what I
have on. So I'm wearing my wrinkled gray tank top, light blue
shorts, no socks and my favorite dock shoes that I have had since
1979. I feel great! No one in this restaurant seems to care
and if I take her breakfast in a few hours, maybe she won't either. |
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