ENID, Okla. —
There are days and there are days.
Every day of the year, it seems, is designated to remember or commemorate something or someone.
Jan. 3, for instance, was Humiliation Day (that’s kind of every day for me, but that’s just me).
Jan. 6 was not only Sherlock Holmes’ birthday, but was both Bean Day and Cuddle Up Day (two things that definitely seem mutually exclusive).
Coming up soon, Feb. 5 is Disaster Day (again, rather like every day for me).
Feb. 9 is a perfect combination: it is the day Hershey’s Chocolate was founded in 1894, as well as Toothache Day.
Down the road a bit, March 5 is Multiple Personalities Day (to you and yours), July 23 is Mosquito Day (condemning the little pests or praising them, I’m not quite sure), Sept. 18 is Lance Armstrong’s birthday (unless he lied about that, too), Nov. 14 is National Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day, followed the next day by Pack Your Mom Lunch Day (just as long you don’t pack her some sort of science experiment you’ve dug out from the recesses of your fridge).
There’s a day for every occasion and an occasion for every day, it seems.
Take Saturday, for instance, which was Spouse’s Day.
It is a day annually dedicated to married couples, and one on which spouses are encouraged to find small ways to let their partner know he or she is appreciated.
By small, apparently, whoever came up with this day didn’t mean the tiny boxes that really expensive jewelry comes in. That is left for Valentine’s Day, there are no gifts required for the celebration of Spouses Day.
Having been a spouse for going on 38 years, it seems to me every day should be a day for showing appreciation for your better half.
Some people, however, don’t seem to get it. A fellow in Lincolnshire, England, recently found an online profile of his wife on a dating site aimed at farmers. In response, he got a front-end loader, put the top down on her beloved Peugeot convertible, and filled the interior with cow manure.
A San Antonio couple recently got into a tiff, leading the wife to fire a gun through their bedroom door, shooting hubby in the chest. His injuries were non life-threatening, but the marriage is apparently on life support.
In Newport News, Va., another married couple got in a kerfluffle, which ended when wifie clocked hubby in the noggin with a small saucepan. I wonder what was for dessert?
And it doesn’t just happen here in America, it seems. In Kuwait, a 25-year-old woman cooked her husband dinner, then refused to obey his order to wash the dishes afterwards. So he beat her mercilessly. I’m betting he won’t eat her cooking again.
By the same token, a woman in Kentucky won’t be accepting if her husband ever offers her another cup of coffee, after hubby admitted putting rat poison in her cup of joe.
But then there are the good stories. Last month, a North Carolina woman suffering from stage four breast cancer and with only a few months to live pined for a white Christmas.
But the weather didn’t cooperate, since holiday temperatures were in the 50s. So her husband hired a company to dump four tons of snow on their yard.
In South Africa, two armed men tried to rob a mom-and-pop store. After one of them pointed a gun at her husband, the wife wrestled with the gunman and told hubby to duck. The gun went off, the bullet passing through the counter and losing steam before striking the husband in the upper back. Police credited the woman for saving her hubby’s life.
Thankfully, my bride and I are extremely boring in comparison.
There is no gunplay, no rat poison, no weaponized sauce pans and no cow manure in our relationship, just a daily commitment to try to make each other happy.
No marriage is perfect, to be sure, and I wonder every day why she continues to put up with me, but ours is a relationship built on love and respect. I feel sorry for people who can’t say the same.
Heck, every day should be Spouse’s Day, except perhaps for April 18, which is National Columnist’s Day.
Gifts are welcome, but please, no rat poison or cow manure.
Mullin is senior writer of the News & Eagle. Email him at firstname.lastname@example.org.