"PULL THESE LITTLE STRINGS"

"I just let him think he's the one in control."

"As long as he thinks, or I get him to think, it was his idea, I have him eating out of the palm of my hand."

"If he doesn't go along with my wishes, he doesn't get his reward--ME."

I've heard all these from other women going back to my high school days. By the way, none were said about me. But my wife has a good one that she says about me. I think I'll save that one, but if memory serves, I have already shared it in an earlier blog.

So why do we, then allow them--the weaker sex, to have control of our lives?

For me, it's relatively easy. Readers looking for the big answer maybe need to go to another blog. But if you're looking for something that works, then read on.

A decision I don't care about, I defer to my wife. What do you want for supper? is a good example. I'm blessed to have a wife who cooks like Paula and Julia but looks a whole lot better. She varies the offerings, puts her personal touch to each meal, watches my portions pretty carefully and prepares delicious (epiphany--the world deli comes from delicatessen which comes from delicious) food. I like, among other foods, beef, pork, chicken, fish, lamb--you name it. In fact there is very, very little on or off the food pyramid chart that I don't like. So why should I decide what I want for any meal? She can pick whatever she wants, and it's fine with me. If she wants me to cook out in the hot sun, rain, or dark, then hey, I'm just like the mailman; I'll deliver.

Now, when it comes to a big decision, I fly into action. I will control the tv remote. When we got our last tv, it was a fortnight before she learned how to turn it on. Seriously. Not that she's not higher tech than I, but come on--we're talking about the tv here.

Maybe that's why she has jokingly (I hope ) told friends, "we have one brain, and I have it."