“Yeah, you know, like that cliché line? ‘Take my wife, please.’”
I roll my eyes. “Wives get such a bad rap.”
“Well, shit, I dunno. I have no idea what a wife does—I’ve never actually witnessed one in its natural habitat.”
“Are we talking about a human or a water buffalo?”
Josh chuckles. “Cut me some slack. My mom died when I was little; my uncle’s wife died before I was born; and my best friends are either single or in what I’d callnon-permanentrelationships.”
I make a face. I didn’t mean to be insensitive about Josh growing up without a mom or any maternal influences. I didn’t even think about that when I made my snarky comment.
“Plus,” Josh adds, seemingly unfazed by my comment, “and most importantly: there were no wives onFull House.”
“I’m sorry, Josh,” I say softly. “I didn’t think. I keep forgetting.”
He waves his hands like I’m totally missing his point. “Forgetting what? It is what it is. Long time ago. No worries. I’m just saying I’ve never witnessed an actual wife up close, that’s all. I don’t know what women are really like if you actuallylivewith one.”
I’m suddenly starkly aware of just how different my childhood was from Josh’s. I can’t wrap my head around how disconnected and isolating—andmasculine—his upbringing must have been. No wonder he has no freaking idea about marriage and relationships.
“Lori Loughlin,” I say.
“Huh?”
“Lori Loughlin. She played Uncle Jessie’s wife in the later seasons ofFull House.”
“Oh yeah,” Josh says. “I forgot about her. I kinda stopped watching by then.”
“Oh. Well, she didn’t nag. She was happy and funny and supportive. That’s what a real wife is like.”
“Really? Well, I don’t remember all that. All I remember is that she was smokin’ hot.”
“I thought you stopped watching by then?”
“I might have caught a couple episodes.” He laughs. “She was hot.”
“Still is. Saw a photo of her the other day. But, anyway, that’sjust TV,” I concede. “Uncle Jessie’s wife doesn’t really count as spotting an actual wife in the wild, so your point is still well taken.”
“Well, tell me, then. You’ve observed the species, right?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ve spotted a genuine wife scurrying in the bushes a time or two.”
“Well, enlighten me. Does your mom nag the shit out of your dad or what?”
“No. Never. My mom’s the coolest woman who ever lived—super happy and energetic and just sort of like, ‘If you’re not happy, then get yourself happy, motherfucker, and stop bitching.’”
“Does your mom actually use the words ‘motherfucker’ and ‘bitching’?”
“No, not unless she’sreallymad—usually at Keane.” I laugh. “She’s much more likely to use words like ‘honey’ and ‘complaining’—but she’d say both in areally‘motherfucker’tone.”
Josh looks absolutely mesmerized right now. “Did your mom stay home with all you kids when you were little?”
“Yeah. But she always helped decorate people’s houses on the side. At first it was just her friends, and then it expanded to her friends’ friends. Nowadays, she’s got her own little interior decorating business and she absolutelylovesit. In her spare time she cooks the most incredible food—the best turkey chili you’ve ever had, oh my God—oh, and her spaghetti sauce is next level, and her lasagna is to die for. I think she wishes her ancestors came from Italy instead of Sweden.” I laugh. “Oh, sorry, what was I saying? I get all excited when I talk about my mom’s food.”
“You were saying your mom doesn’t nag your dad.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. She doesn’t. She leaves him the hell alone and makes herself happy cooking incredible food and decorating people’s houses and going to her exercise classes. You should see my mom with her little five-pound weights, doing her classes at the gym. She’s such a little badass.”
He chuckles.
