The Things We Laugh About

For the record, my husband is a clean man. He picks up after himself and helps with chores. He tries his best to keep up with my OCD-cleaning habits. That being said, nobody is perfect. Yesterday Alan gave me a mild panic attack.


After walking into the house yesterday evening, and being struck at the front door with an uncharacteristically pungent, cheesy odor, I knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. I immediately asked Alan what that funky smell was about. He replied, from the apartment's back room, that he didn't know what I was talking about. Thus, I set out to find the culprit. My search led me to Alan's feet. Since I couldn't throw the offensive source away (which was my first impulse), I asked Alan to wash his feet. Alan declined, stating that he was in the middle of some important online game that he couldn't quit. I have seen him play this game before, and I knew it could be hours before he was finished. I couldn't imagine even 5 more minutes with the horrible stink. I insisted. "Please", I said, while laughing at the absurdity of the situation.

He finally washed his feet or, I should say, rinsed. There was no soap involved. I was laughing loudly and nervously at this point. Alan started laughing too. "Who doesn't use soap when they wash their feet?", I asked. "Go WASH your feet!" "with SOAP", I bellowed. Between laughs, this was his reply:

"You know what, I have never washed my feet the entire time we have been together."

The above quote is something you never wish to hear from your husband. Especially after being together for almost 5 years. The laughing stopped. I was so shocked I was paralyzed. Words could not explain my disgust. This, from the man I love? Apparently yes. And I still love him. And after he really washed his feet, with soap, we laughed some more.