I was out walking around the neighborhood the other day and run into Pearl Plaisted dead-heading her geraniums.
“Ida!” she says, “I haven’t seen you all summer. Why don’t you come in for some iced tea, dear?”
“No need to twist my arm. I was going to do a little vacuuming, so thanks for rescuing me.”
Pearl seemed a little stuck in the “half way up” position, so I give her an assist, and into the house we go.
“Hank,” she yells, “you decent? Ida’s here.”
We settled into the screened in porch, and got to talking about the big celebration coming up next weekend down to the K of C. Get this: Frank and Ada Jones are gonna to be celebrating their 77th wedding anniversary. Imagine! Frank is deaf as a post. Says he got that way out of self-defense because Ada could talk the ears off a dead donkey. “Well,” Ada’s been known to retort looking straight at him and smiling, “now I know why my eyesight’s shot!”
“Seventy-seven years,” Hank says, shaking his head. “People have gotten purple hearts for less.”
Pearl rolls her eyes, offering me a homemade ginger snap. “Here we go,” she mutters good naturedly.
“Of course, Pearl and me been happily married for thirty-five years,” Hank continues.
Pearl goes, “More like twenty-five, I figure.” See, this is a well-honed routine.
“Wait a minute,” I says, “I know for a fact that the two of you have been married over fifty years. You must be doing something right. All joking aside…”
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to do that,” Hank says.
“Do what?” I ask.
“Put all joking aside, because you gotta have a sense of humor about things, or you’re just not gonna to make it a couple.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Pearl adds. “If we weren’t able to laugh at ourselves, I doubt we’d have survived the first ten years.”
“Yup, those are the hardest.”
“So many changes, and just as you’re getting used to each other, a baby comes along, then another.”
“Money’s tight, and you’re trying to make ends meet.”
“Make it through those first ten, then things sort of settle down: you kinda hit your stride.”
“Yes, sir-ee. By the time you hit the ten year mark, she’s knows who’s boss. That’s the key: having one person in charge.” Hank points to himself, grinning. “You know, calling the shots. Right, Pearl?”
“That’s right, dear. Oh look, there’s the mail truck. I’m expecting some photos of little Emma. She’s our brandy new great-granddaughter, Ida. Cute as a button. Hank, you mind going out and getting the mail, dear?”
“Will do. Time I got back to work, anyways.”
“And don’t forget, we’re having supper with Phil and Ester tonight.”
“Darn! What time we leaving?”
“About 5:00, 5:15. So you need to stop work by 4:30, Hank, latest.”
“Cut’s my day short.”
“I know, but I’m making lemon meringue pie for dessert. Is that motivation enough for you?”
“OK, OK. 4:30.” And off he goes to get the mail, and attend to whatever pressing business he’s got going out in the shed.
Pearl waits until he clears the front of the house, turns to me and smiles. “The number one key to a happy marriage, Ida, is to never let him know that the person in charge is really you.”
That’s it for now. Catch you on the flip side!
Hear Ida Tell It: The Key to a Happy Marriage