"You can take off your sunglasses now."

There are incidents that take place, and there are thoughts that occur within my internal space, both of which may lend themselves to an entry in the blog. But as I ponder these items and consider ways that I might expound upon them, I decide against making them the subject of a blog entry.  I am just not ready for that degree of self disclosure.

I can't resist expounding upon and blogging an incident that occurred earlier this week and meets this criteria. (Those among my readers, who know the particulars of my situation, will understand why I could be gracious this time.)

I was wearing sunglasses on a recent drive home on a particularly bright and sunny afternoon with my wife in the passenger seat. As we got closer to home and the sun slipped behind some clouds, I was instructed, "You can take off your sunglasses now." I have become accustomed to receiving all types of driving instructions from my spouse. Everything from speed up or slow down, pass or don't pass, wash the windshield, use the turn signal, change lanes, and others that I am sure that I have forgotten, but that is okay, because I will be reminded as needed. This was the very first time that I was instructed to wear or not wear sunglasses. I didn't say anything, but I DID NOT TAKE MY SUNGLASSES OFF. I wasn't really being passive-aggressive. I actually thought it continued to bright enough to warrant sunglasses.

Several years ago after witnessing an instructional episode with my wife, a friend commented, "Your wife really is a kindergarten teacher." He explained that such natural born individuals have a compulsion to be in control, and in their role of teacher responsible for a dozen or more little ones, they simply have to be. It is critical to maintain control and order, rather than being put in the position of regaining control and restoring order once proverbial things have hit the proverbial fan. This compulsion doesn't always get turned off as the teacher leaves the classroom or playground and finds her or himself in a group of adults watching a Sunday afternoon football game.

This observation was later substantiated by an independent source. I related the incident and my friend's comment to another friend, who responded, "I know what you mean." His wife is a retired first grade teacher. He went on to describe how he is unable to casually shift his weight from one foot to another as he waits for someone or something in the presence of his wife. She immediately assumes that he needs to go to the restroom and does not hesitate to instruct him in very audible terms "You need to go to the restroom. Go."

These experiences have to make one wonder just what it is that women as mothers (and not just as teachers) observe about men in general, but never gets mentioned.  Something tells me this must be SOME list. Maybe this is the gist of woman-to-woman conversations. They don't just talk about kids and grandkids.

Guys, let's be careful out there.