My Wife’s Secret Life
...and why I’m happily married, blissfully in the dark
I
recently discovered that my wife, Wendy, enjoys a secret life. Actually, I’ve known about it for years. I just never let her know that I knew about it. It’s also possible that she’s always known that I know about it (and has chosen to keep that a secret, too). Either way, the woman is a master at keeping her husband happily married and blissfully in the dark. Consider the high drama of our recent unplanned kitchen makeover. 50 | WALTER
by JIM DODSON
One evening last spring, our fancy German dishwasher blew up like the Hindenburg and flooded the kitchen of the charming mid-century bungalow we’ve spent the last five years faithfully restoring. I suggested we move to Scotland. Within days, however, Wendy had rallied a small army of specialists with industrial driers, fans, and blueprints for a complete renovation. Curiously, they all seemed to know my wife by her first name.
Though I’m hardly the suspicious type, such fraternal bonhomie did make me momentarily wonder if Dame Wendy might have a private, second career as a kitchen subcontractor and home makeover artist. One of her not-so-secret pleasures, after all, are the makeover programs playing around the clock on HGTV, brick-and-mortar dramas where — in the span of 45 minutes — unspeakably decrepit houses are transformed into suburban show palaces by clever couples
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SIMPLE LIFE
