The Look of Doom

Bill Cosby spoke about a situation in his comedy routine, in which his wife spotted him feeding their children chocolate cake for breakfast (“It has eggs! Flour! The basic food groups!”). Upon noting his faux PAs (get it?), he said her skull immediately split open and fire shot out of her eyeballs in anger/rage. 

Bill Cosby Chocolate Cake 

(And I have to say, re-listening to this monologue has me in stitches. I'm rolling!!!!!!!)

I’ve been on the receiving end of that skull-splitting-eyeball-fire-shooting glare before, from my mother. I’ve learned from the best, what it means to skewer someone with a glance, and I’m quite good at it when I need to emit a lot of emotion in a place where I’m not allowed to emulate the Shrieking Eels. Most recently, I utilized “the look” in our church basement, when my husband, being given the task of walking our 17 month-old son out to the car, glanced away from said child for a nanosecond.

I heard gasps, and BOOM! My son pulled a chair down on his head. I whipped my head around like a viper and shot my husband The Look of DOOM. I think an otherworldly force clamped down on my mouth, because by that point of my day, I’d been pushed just a teeny bit too far….Fortunately, I did NOT verbalize my exact emotion at his slight-but-significant oversight at that time; however, he has heard about it for two days now, as I am increasingly concerned at what appears to be a general lack of observation that plagues the male community at large. And for what it’s worth, I think my entire church saw me give The Look of DOOM, and probably read my mind, so I’m pretty sure I didn’t HAVE to say a word to get my point across. His fate was sealed.

I have come to realize that I will never be Mrs. Brady, that perfect suburban wife who has patented “Whatever you say, honey!” as a catchphrase. I will never be Ms. Edna, the beloved pastor’s wife who I viewed as an “extra” grandparent until she passed away at 94-ish. She emulated meekness, and in doing so, was a pillar of strength for my family. There are my peers that appear to have it all together in a SAHM-cocoon of championing their male counterparts as breadwinners, while they stay home and blissfully raise their young (this is how it seems in my head—believe me, I’ve spoken with many of them, and I know it isn’t the case in reality….it’s just how I imagine it HAS to be. I’m delusional—I get that). I feel like I will never successfully be that Submissive Wife.

I will ALWAYS have an opinion. I will ALWAYS be passionate, take initiative, and bulldog a situation when I feel like things are moving too slow. I will always tell my husband exactly how I feel, to a point; the question is how respectful in that expression will I be?  I do not feel like I fit into the church “mold” of a wife at all…partially because I’m a working mother, and that puts me in the minority of women around me who gave birth at the same time I did. I bring in 50% of the income (actually, 70% for the last few years, which is terrifically frustrating…thanks, economy), and I occasionally have to remind myself that doesn’t make me superior in any way, shape, or form. Part of me wonders if I ever became a SAHM, would I somehow magically be meeker? Would we somehow evolve into The Brady Bunch ideal? Is that what it would take, to carve off some of the edginess? Am I not supposed to be this way—at 36, haven’t I figured that out yet?

I was only slightly embarrassed at giving my husband The Look of DOOM in public, but then I just embraced it. Call me rebellious. Call me disobedient, or unsubmissive—do it. Walk in my shoes, and check yourself, because let me tell you—there are days when the limit has been reached (and lately, those days seem to all land on Sunday). Did it embarrass my husband, to get That Look in public? Probably, and that’s not good (coming from me). A little self-control on my part would have been good…but it WAS only a Look. I’m thankful that my eyes spoke before my mouth could.  I’ve been trying to think if I’ve ever witnessed someone give their spouse The Look of DOOM in public or at church, and outside of my mother, I don’t think so, which makes me wonder what kind of Kool-Aid y’all are drinking…More than likely, I’m just oblivious to other’s DOOM-face, because it HAS to have happened. My friends can’t be that perfect.

Sigh.

I have a long way to go.  Parenthood has pushed me further, drained me deeper, and dropped me to my knees like nothing else in life. And I wouldn’t have it any other way, in the course of learning to be the best wife and mother possible…It’s an adventure, a journey, and a quest; come high or low, it’s the best of learning opportunities, and I think David and I are embracing it all…even The Looks of Doom…