My lovely first wife and I were out to dinner with two other couples.  There’s always a friendly competitiveness amongst us three husbands.  It’s not a competitiveness like when one of us gets a new car then one of the other guys goes out and buys a better one. 

It’s a competitiveness of who can treat their wife the best.

Back to the dinner. 

We’re at the dinner table and Jack turns to his wife, Barbara, and says, “Would you mind passing the sugar, SUGAR?”  Barbara smiles and says, “Why, sure!” and passes Jack the sugar. 

Not to be out done, Blake turns to his wife, Lynn, and says, “Would you mind passing the honey, HONEY?”  She gives him a loving smile and says, “Certainly, Sweetie!”

The pressure is really on me.  Here we are, sitting in a pretty nice restaurant, and I’m trailing behind in this race of spousal compliments.  In fact, I haven’t even entered in to it yet. 

What’s a guy to do? 

Then, the inspiration hits me. 

I turn my lovely wife, Rhonda, and say, “Could you pass me the tea, BAG?”

Okay.  I confess.  That didn’t really happen (but you’ve likely heard a variation of this old joke over the years).  But here’s a true story: 

When I was growing up, it wasn’t unusual for my dad to lay on the couch, watching T.V. and holler out to Mom, “Woman!  Why don’t you fix us some popcorn?”  One night, sitting by my Dad, watching Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. on “FBI”, I called out to Mom, “Woman!  Why don’t you fix me some Kool-Aid?” 

I won’t go into details but let’s just say that it didn’t go over very well. 

Fast forward to the first year Rhonda and I were married.  I called out to Rhonda, “Woman!  Why don’t you fix me something to drink?”  Again, not a smooth move.  Lesson learned.

We’ve all heard the jokes about the women in men’s lives.  It seems the jokes ratchet up once marriage is part of the equation.  Whether it’s Henny Youngman’s famous, “Take my wife . . . Please!” or the many variations of “I’ve been married for 30 years – it’s been the happiest four years of my life”, we love making our wives the object of our humor.  I might have picked up this trait from my maternal grandfather. He drove a horse truck (a flatbed truck with a stall built on it to hall a horse or two) and would joke that he bought it to haul grandmother around.

Somewhere along the line, men somehow got the idea that making jokes at our wife’s (or girlfriend’s) expense is somehow endearing to them.  We probably learned it on the school playground when we would pull Suzie’s ponytail and she would then chase us all over the playground. 

Some might even say that it goes all the way back to the “caveman days” when “Grog the Troglodyte” found a woman that he fancied, would merely club her over the head and drag her back to the cave.  Nice touch. 

The point is, while we might have meant well (or not) in our humor, it ain’t working!  I would venture a guess that most of you women would prefer to be treated like you were something more than a maid (I’m feeling the love from my fellow man about now!).

The truth is, ladies, you mean the world to us Troglodytes.  You make our cave, er, house a home!  For some of us cave dudes, you even help us dress correctly.  If we were country singer, Kenny Rogers, we would say that you decorate our life and bring out the best in us!

It’s a sad fact that Troglodytes are not always good at expressing ourselves without a club in our hands. Now, I’m no Dr. Phil (I can’t be because I have more hair than he does)  but I have to think that husbands can do a better job of honoring our wives and treat them like the queens that they are.  Just sayin’ . . .

This is just for my fellow cave dudes:  Guys, at least once a day, let’s find some way to treat our wives, girlfriends, concubines (or whoever decorates your cave) like a queen, expecting nothing in return (except, maybe, a look of total disbelief). 

I have to think that, by doing so, we will be better Troglodytes.