Avoidance

By Laura Toffenetti

Shhh! I'm avoiding my husband by hiding behind my laptop. I have to look really busy and intent upon the "work" I'm doing or risk being besieged.

No, I didn't do anything wrong. No, he's not mad at me. He's working on his B.E.S.T. portfolio. I'm not going to waste your time or mine explaining what that is. Part of my keeping a low profile right now is so I can exist without really knowing what it is. My husband has a lot of choice words to explain it but none of them really describe the portfolio but rather his feeling about the process. For him the "B" usually stands for bastards, bidiots or borons. Let's just say that it's something he HAS to do in order to keep his job. And whoever decided to call it B.E.S.T. must have been referring to the type of torture rather than the results this process is suppose to produce. (I think it stands for Best Educational Standards for Teachers, or Best Established Sanity sucking Tests, or Better Evade Spouse Today.)

Keeping myself separate from this is a very deliberate act on my part. I consciously decided the only way I was going to survive this experience was to make sure it was his experience and not mine. I totally agree that what he has to do is stupid and is designed by very difficult people, only that doesn't make the task go away and why should I share in the aggravation?

I guess this makes me seem pretty hard-hearted, doesn't it. But, really, what good would I be doing if I joined in on the angst? Would he get the work done any quicker? Any better? No.

And I am doing what I can to be supportive. For example he came downstairs from his office steaming and confused. I gave a few sympathetic nods and then suggested we go to the Dairy Bar to get ice cream cones. Score! No hemming and hawing about diets because we're doing it for him.

I also suggested he distract himself by getting the laundry done but that is only proving to be partially successful. He can get the clothes in the washer but seems to be having a bit of trouble transferring them to the dryer. I'd do it for him but then I'd have to go upstairs to the laundry room, which is way too close to his study. I think I have enough underwear to last me another week.

I'm thinking maybe we should go out to dinner rather than risk disturbing him by banging pots and pans around. Only that means we'd have to sit at the same table waiting for our food and talking. There's only one subject he's going to talk about. We just had ice cream. Who needs dinner?

I'm really running out of ideas. It's the middle of winter so taking a long walk doesn't really appeal to me. If there was snow I could go cross-country skiing but it's like even Mother Nature has turned against me. It's fifty degrees and raining in Connecticut and it's February! If I can't find a good movie on cable I may have to resort to vacuuming. That will at least make him hard to hear.