A WIFE’S COMPLAINT.

Hawera Star, Volume XLVI, 28 August 1926, Page 17

A WIFE’S COMPLAINT.

“THINGS I WISH MY HUSBAND WOULDN’T DO.”

'yOF knoAv, a husband can. be very trying Avhen he tries. Mine can, anyway. He’s got the most annoying habit of making me laugli just Avhen I want to be really cross Avith him. The result bq of course, that I forget what I Avas going to be cross about. I do wish he Avouldn’t be quite so good tempered, sometimes. I can never give him a really good lecture.. One of these days, however,, I’m going to insist on being stern —and then I’m going to mention the little matter of the. cigarette ash. He will flick it off all 0A T er the place! But the last time I tried to protest about it the usual thing happened. He made me laugh. “Jim,” I said desperately, “is there any place in the house where you haA’cn’t knocked your cigarette ash?’’ “Why, yes!’’ he cried triumphantly and made a. dash for the ash-tray! I tell myself sometimes that I’d put up with, finding ash everywhere if only he’d cease doing one thing. That is, repeating the old story about ash being good for the rugs. Of course, it isn’t. It can’t be. And, anyway, if it is, it oughtn’t to be. * * * * Then there’s the question of his tools. - Jim’s a handyman, and there’s nevtr any need for me to ask him to do a job twice. But Ido Avish he AV’onidn’t leave his tilings about after him. Not that I mind tidying up, bless him, particularly Avhen he’s so ready to do anything. But I do AAdsh he wouldn’t blame me when he can’t find the things next time he Avants them. Talking about odd jobs reminds me that there’s one thing upon AA’hich nobody has yet been able to give me any helpful advice. Ever since avc were married Jim has made a habit of Trashing up for me after Sunday’s dinner- I’ve told him it doesn’t matter more than once, but he says it’s my Aveekly treat.

So, he does it. And after using up every bit of soda—“plenty of soda” is his battle-cry—he leaves the pudding cloths. That ’s my job. With no soda. Ugh!’ I do wish he wouldn’t. But hoAV .can I break him of the habit without seeming ungrateful? I’d sooner do the whole job myself than face those pudding cloths. There’s one other thing in the Avav of odd jobs I Avish he wouldn’t do, and that is to teach me hoav to light a fire. •He can’t understand Avliy I won’t rake, out the old ashes first, and when he takes it into his head to teach me he digs them all out with an unholy glee, lays the, fire as it should be Laid, and then blames the wood for being wet. And although Ike shown him time and again the, dust that settles on the mantelpiece and e\’crywhere- else, he won’t believe, that it’s his raking that has caused it all.

Once or tAvice AA’hen I have been going to meet him in t-OAA’n I have lost a train through finding a lot of odds and ends to be; done at the last minute. Every AA’Oinan knoAvs Avhat it is. Nowadays, hoAveA’er, Jim seems to think it is beyond my poAver to catch a train, and makes a point of giving me the Avrong time. He ahvays pretends that it leaves about a quarter of an hour earlier than it really -joes. The trouble is, of course, that I never know when to belie\’e him, and after hurrying and scurrying to- geft to the station by the time he has told me I find that I’ve got to wait, And I’m certain there’s nothing more annoying on earth, than that, Once, Aviien he; had told me that a train left at- two instead of a quarterpast, I had to Avait on the station, for ten minutes- When I met him. I told him what had happened, and said 1 thought it Avas unkind of him. He just laughed, and pointed -out that if the train had left at tAvo I should have lost it. AncLthat’s the so,rt of thing I wish he AA-ouldn’t do.

I suppose all husbands Avant buttons sewn on noAv and again. They wouldn’t be husbands, if tney didn’t. And, from what I’ve heard, every husband lias an idea that his wife simply gloats over the thought that her man is going about a button short. I tell Jim sometimes that I’d Avillingly sew buttons all over him if he’d only tell me, at the right time; yet, somehoAV, that’s a thing he can’t do. There are only tAvo times in Jim s day Avhen any thoughts of buttons enter his head —or so it seems. They are just AA’hen he is turning out the light before, getting into bed and Avhen he is kissing mo good-bye in the morning. ~ Well, I cant’ scav buttons on then, C 3-11 I? And if by chance I get cross and tell him that if he can’t .remind me at the proper time he’d better seAA’ the buttons on himself, he smiles one of his tantalising smiles and says his skin’s too tender. I do Avish he wouldn’t! —Glasgow Post.