Mundane Musings

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 205, 18 November 1927, Page 5

Mundane Musings

Blind Husbands By A MERE WIFE. I simply can’t miss this wonderful opportunity for an anonymous grumble! Just imagine my being able to say what I like and your not knowing who it is! First of all, my dear, I sometimes wonder if you’re quite, quite blind. I really and truly believe that if I should get up in the middle of one night and paint the bathroom ‘door a rich pink, you wouldn’t notice anything different in the morning. Honestly, I can’t understand how it is you don’t see things, judging you by myself, because I should notice if you neglected to shave even one morning. I know it’s not a big thing, my husband; but the little things count a lot in married life. It’s not an incentive for a woman to be smart when her husband doesn’t know what she’s got on. I’m quite sure it’s not that you don’t care. It’s simply that you don’t see. I wish you would, though. D’you know, sometimes I’d give anything if you’d just say, “What a topping frock, dear! It just matches your eyes.” (I know it does, because I got it for that). Or; “I like my wife in that hat. Put it on this afternoon, darling.” My last crochet straw merited that, I’m convinced, but I don’t think you even knew I’d got a new hat untii the bill came in, and then you said: “Which is this, dear? It must be an old bill.” Well! Put To the Test I tested you the other day, and you never noticed even that. We were going out to tennis, and upon a sudden irresistible impulse to see if you were actually blind I put on a faded gingham that I had two years ago (gingham after two years* washing!), with elbow-length sleeves and long skirt, an old hat that I am going to send to the next jumble sale, and some old black lace-up shoes. We actually got as far as the garden gate, and I knew in despair that you weren’t going to make any comment, so I suddenly remembered I’d left my hanky behind, and I flew back and put my proper things on. The most priceless part of the whole thing was that you didn’t notice that I’d changed when I came back! But, my dear, I will say this. We lunched with two newly married friends the other day, and the husband nearly made me ill. I felt so sorry for the poor wife. The first words he said when we got seated

were: “I told you your felt hat would be more appropriate for lunch than that big thing.” You didn’t hear that, but I did; he didn’t trouble to lower his voice. Then later:— “Why didn’t you put on that red fox fur I bought you? What did I buy it for?” We shall not lunch with them again if I can help it. I perfer you to be blind, my husband, rather than to be like that. But all the same !