He can dig it

Bless Matt's heart. He is a wonderful husband, and he treats me so well. But sometimes, he just digs himself into a little verbal hole that deepens with every word out of his mouth. And I have to admit that more often than not, I keep handing him the shovel.

A few days ago, we were getting ready for work and I asked him if he likes my hair being so short. He HATES when I do this kind of thing. First, because it's such a loaded question. Second, because it comes with no warning at all--moments before, we had been talking about when to get my car serviced. So you would think that since he knows the dangers of these waters, he would stay away. Simple and enthusiastic is always safe, like "YES! I love it."

That's not what he said.

You know what he said?

He said, "Sure. Now that you're, well, I mean, once women start getting to a certain age, well, I think, I mean, it's very appropriate for where you're at in life."

I think my eyebrows shot all the way to my hairline. I was torn between shock and amusement, so while I sorted out a response in my head, what did I do? Here's your shovel, honey. "So do you like it better than the old way?"

At that point, he realized he was in way over his head. I think "Ummm." was all he managed. Given the alternatives, I think that was a wise choice. Because I knew he was panicking and because I really did sort of set him up for failure, I let him off the hook. He exited the room as fast as humanly possible. I just finished fixing my "appropriate" hair and stuck the shovel in my back pocket for next time.