Gay or straight, doesn’t matter. It’s the Y chromosome!

It’s my husband’s birthday today. A friend suggested that I write a post about him—my husband. Initially I found the idea odd only because I rarely plan my posts. The ideas come to me. I have to be consumed with a topic to blog about it. But as I sat down with my laptop earlier today, I had an epiphany. After all, Mr. Frost said, “Writing is discovery.”

My husband, a man of way above–average intelligence, has an embarrassingly forgetful memory when it comes to doing anything around the house. Okay, “embarrassing” is not the right word. But I have people from the older generation reading my blog posts too, so I figured I’d refrain from using anything non PG-13 to nickname his “laziness.”:-)

Just the other day, for the millionth time, it slipped his mind to bring the heavy-duty grocery—items that any sane woman shouldn’t carry. A few weeks ago, he forgot to tell me about a package his aunt had sent. Thanks for the embarrassment, dear. More often than not, I need to remind him to call his own family. Yes, the list goes on. But since it’s his birthday, let’s cut him some slack.:-)

Not too long ago in the past, I got mad and asked him how he could forget, again and again. He gave me that patented “I don’t know. I just don’t know.” I believed him. Ah, the foolish me. I neglected to see that his head was tilted at an angle, which I assumed exuded sincere apology. (That’s how Shahrukh Khan apologizes in Hindi movies). Apparently not. There was golf on the television, and the man was trying to get a sneak peak. He wanted me to shut up. He knew the “Deer-caught-in-the-headlights-act” would work on me. And it did!

When a friend of mine tried asking her husband about his forgetfulness, he pretended to watch television. It was his, “Honey, I-need-some-space, time.” When she insisted on having a discussion, he tried convincing my friend that they should talk later since he was watching TV. He started flipping through channels. Rapidly. Abruptly. Without breathing. Like she was a sniper from the enemy side, and he was trying to survive. His fingertips worked faster than his thoughts when he finally said, “Babe, there is something important that I have to watch.” She said, “What?” None of the games were on. She was well aware. She waited for him. But her husband was determined. He found a crappy channel showing……. POKER and settled with it.

My friend thought that she could totally call his bluff. Like, totally. C’mon, seriously. Who watches poker? For how long? And that too on television? That’s sick!

She waited, he watched. She waited some more, he watched more. And that was the day poker became a part of his sports viewing ritual.

It didn’t end there; during a commercial break, he pointed to a random model’s washboard abs and said, “Babe, you should do what she does. Doesn’t look all that difficult.” I am not sure why he is still alive!

Another friend of ours said that he wanted to get an iPad because in his neighborhood all the dads are expected to show up to kiddie birthdays. Oh, those poor men, “wasting” their sacred Sunday on their child. And those wives. Sloths, who don’t consult their hubbies sports-schedule before planning a celebration that comes only once a year. How could they imagine organizing an event that was convenient for all, just inconvenient for the men folk?

I hope you can smell the sarcasm and visualize me rolling my eyes.

Tired from negotiating channel flipping and living with monologues, my girlfriends and I believed that gay guys would make perfect husbands. They compliment, comment, care, commend, and never hit on women. They are friends, fashionistas, fervent, feisty. Every “Sheila ki jawaani” is safe in their hands. No Munni will ever become badnaam in their company. They are everything that your straight man won’t do or won’t be.

I wish I could stick to my postulation. Prove I am right. Alas.

Sometime back, I had the opportunity to spend a couple of wonderful weeks with a gay couple. I knew them both pre and post their wedding. All was going great until the marriage happened. The Y-chromosome kicked in, big time.

The husband in their relationship FORGOT what he wasn’t supposed to. He made the same mistakes, like straight guys. Maybe he didn’t squabble over Sunday afternoon football, but he did forget to bring the grocery. And then wine. Then it got worse; he didn’t remember to compliment his partner or appreciate dinner.

As I watched the two men turn into stereotypical, married mutts, I realized: Orientation doesn’t matter. Straight or gay isn’t the point; men transform when they become husbands. Perhaps, they assume, the legal paper somehow tells them it’s okay to be irresponsible. After all, they make great boyfriends, but the minute the “H-word” (Husband) comes in, mental deterioration seeps in. And there is no turning back.

I guess, on this birthday, my husband gets a free pass. I am taking him out to dinner at one of the most talked about restaurants in town. So excited to try it! And I won’t be offended if he decides to discuss sports and/or work or glances at his BlackBerry to check scores. I won’t hold his “straightness” as a reason for his inattentiveness. Not today! You got saved, birthday boy! :-)

More until next time,

Xoxo

Copyright © 04.21.2011

“In a husband there is only a man; in a married woman there is a man, a father, and mother, and a woman.” ~ Honore de Balzac

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