THE SOUTHERN GENTLEMAN

The genius is a perfect example of the true Southern gentleman. He always takes my elbow when we walk up or down stairs and stays between me and the traffic when we are on sidewalks. You can count on him to stand when a woman comes into the room and pull chairs out for them when sitting down to a meal. I must admit that it is very nice to me to be treated in such a respectful manner.

Some women would resent being taken care of in this way, but I like it; however, I do agree that being married to such a man can have its downside at times. For instance, especially when we first married, there was a very clear difference between the two genders. I was expected to do all the housework with very little help from him. His job around the house has been to take out the trash, do the yard work, and handle any business relating to the cars.

The kitchen was off limits for him except to eat in it. I well remember the first time he said to me, “I’m really thirsty; do we have any juice in the refrigerator?”

My answer was, “I’m sure we do.”

Long pause with an expectant look on his face. (At home he was accustomed to having his mother or grandmother jump up and get him a glass filled with whatever he requested.) I wasn’t going there, however, and he reluctantly began getting his own drinks.

Over the years he has mellowed about the housework: he does laundry, occasionally vacuums, and often helps me clean up the kitchen after a meal. One thing he still does not like to do, however, is to go to the grocery. So yesterday when he offered to go with me to the store, I was very pleased and said I would like his company. Off we went to buy a few items.

It was raining so he let me off at the door and went to park the car (a mistake, as it turned out). We did the “divide and conquer” approach to getting the groceries and soon we were checking out. It was still raining when we went outside and when we got to the car, I saw that he had backed it in, something he usually does no matter where we are. So we had to load it into the back seat around the open car door because there was no room to push the basket to the other side of the door. There we were, standing in the rain, loading the groceries in this awkward manner that took twice as long.

On the way home, I said, “I feel a blog coming on.”

He replied, “Hey, if you start making fun of me, I won’t be inclined to go to the store again.”

But the incident was too much to resist.