It’s not a secret that beloved doesn’t like insects. He will kill them, and I believe he actually enjoys the process, when the electric bug-zapping fly swatter is charged. It is not charged at the moment, and herein lies the problem.
We have errands to run today. Beloved was going to take a shower first, until he spotted a giant mutant wasp in the bathroom. Shower aborted; beloved returns to the bedroom.
Me: We have to go soon. Do you want me to kill the stupid wasp?
Him [Looking adorable in his plaid flannel bathrobe, like some baby-faced resident of The Home for Senile Musicians, lucky for him]: Yes please.
Me: [Sigh] What would you do if you were single?
Him: I don’t know…
Me: You’d kill it.
Him: Possibly… [Note: he totally would have. This is a guy who hiked the Appalachian Trail solo. He would not have surrendered his bathroom to an inch-long insect, mutant or not.]
Me: You know, women get married because they want someone to snuggle up and fall asleep on every night. Men get married because they don’t want to be grown-ups anymore.
Fast-forward till after I looked for the wasp and did not find it, and told the darling bearded bathrobed one that the coast was clear. He comes walking through the house, finally prepared to shower and get on with the day, now that we have like, an hour and a half to get everything done. As he steps into the kitchen, I hear a blood-curdling shriek.
Him: I found the wasp!
Me: Did you kill it?
Him: Does it sound like I killed it?
Me: OK, so pretend you’re not married. What would you do then?
…So he drops his robe.
It’s a good thing he’s cute. Seriously.
*It should be noted that, were he home alone with the kids and there was a wasp in the house, he’d have stomped the little fucker into oblivion by now.