Cantaloupe Compliments

People who have had near-death experiences all describe having gone through a tunnel and seeing the light at the end of it. Although, thank G-d, I have not had a near-death experience, I can relate to the light at the end of the tunnel. After too many weeks of summer vacation, the torture has finally come to an end. The torture was compounded because I was too afraid to send my kids to camp, as the weather forecast predicted unpredictable rocket showers, and my kids’ umbrellas don’t have Iron Dome-like qualities. I was too afraid/tired/annoyed to drive anywhere outside of Beit Shemesh, as just the thought of the baby crying for at least 35 minutes was enough to keep me close to home. I would say that it’s a toss-up of who suffered more from my kids’ boredom.

But, like I said, there is the light at the end of the tunnel, and it’s called “SCHOOL.” I LOVE SCHOOL. Incidentally, isn’t it funny how Hashem plays such a good joke on us? Everything we hated as a kid we love as an adult, and vice-versa. I hated going to bed, school, cheesy love songs, and waking up early. Okay, so I still hate waking up early…

This morning, the kids actually made it on the bus, and I actually had a decent morning to enjoy my favorite past-time: cleaning up the house. I walked around and surveyed each room in awe and horror, and I wondered if I had been sucked into the Twilight Zone and ended up in a frat house on a Sunday morning. Clothes were strewn everywhere, underwear was hanging from the ceiling fans, paintings were crooked, and the floors were streaked with black skid marks from dirty sneakers. I almost thought I smelled beer. Good times.

My cleaning escapade took me almost 3 hours, including dishes. By the end, I was completely exhausted and wondering why Hashem didn’t give women two sets of arms so they could do dishes and fold laundry at the same time. Seriously, wouldn’t life be a lot easier? Instead of taking a much-deserved rest on the couch, I decided to continue with the slave labor and make juice. If you want to know more about the daily juice fiasco I go through, read “The Diet Crisis.” 

Well, when the juice was finally finished, it was almost 2:00. I was so tired, I didn’t even feel like pouring myself a cup. I just wanted to sit! But, I was getting hungry, so I decided to cut up a cantaloupe that was on the verge of sprouting into a tree in my fridge. So maybe it was starting to rot, but that sounds so unappetizing, no? After I cut the melon, I finally took a stand and decided it was time to sit down. So I sat. 

In the middle of my 3-minute slave break, my husband walks in, out of breath from his workout. He immediately pulls up his sleeve and shows me his biceps. The next second, he’s scoping out the fridge looking for something to eat. I just sat there and looked at him, waiting for him to pound his chest and demand, “Me. Hungry. Food!” He saw the freshly cut cantaloupe (wow, that word is so annoying to spell!) and helped himself to it.

I’m still sitting there, watching him, and my annoyance is growing by the second, almost as quickly as his biceps. “Nu,” I said. 

“What?” he answered, snarfing down chunks of cantaloupe. 

“Thank you?!” I retorted. I was mad. 

“What?? Are you serious?! You’re mad at me because I didn’t compliment your cantaloupe?” Oh, he’s playing the oblivious card. Sorry, not gonna fly. 

“Do you know how hard I worked this morning? The least you could do is give me a compliment! Is it so difficult to appreciate what I do for you?” I don’t remember what I said as I continued ranting; I think my words turned into unintelligible droning. 

“Thank you, Abba, for working so hard and blah, blah, blah,” he retorted back. Oh, no, he di-in’t. I don’t remember the end of his retort because I tuned him out. I was fuming by now.

“Oh, excuse me, did I marry a woman?? I didn’t know you needed so many compliments!” And on and on I went.

You get the picture.

Husbands, here’s something you need to understand: women need compliments! And not just sometimes, for big things. We need compliments all the time! For every little thing! You know, I’ve never met a man who knows women like Rav Arush knows us. He understands that the secret to a happy wife is lots and lots of compliments! We need compliments just like we need air to breathe! 

Get it, guys? Compliments are not just nice, or icing on the cake. They’re vital to our existence! Without them, we begin to deteriorate! What’s the proof? Try my fail-proof Nag Test: to know how you rate on the compliment scale, pay attention to how much your wife is nagging you. Scientific studies have shown an inverse correlation between nagging and compliments. More compliment = less nag. Less compliment = more nag. Where’s my Nobel Peace Prize?

Actually, Rav Arush deserves the Nobel Peace Prize. He came up with the award-winning formula for a happy marriage in his best-seller for men only, The Garden of Peace. When you’re in the car, listen to Rabbi Arush’s amazing Cd’s, translated in English by Rabbi Lazer Brody, “First Place” and “Love Between Husband and Wife.” Make sure you’re driving alone… trust me.