Instead of using an uncomfortable incident against the entire state of Texas, I'm going to assume I had a one-off encounter with a closed-minded individual. My spouse and I are in the process of buying a new home (1,400+ miles from where we used to live) and I was on the phone last week with one of the many points of contact that plays in the orchestra of home buying. The woman on the line let her words drip with judgement and asked me, "Does your husband know what you're doing?" Now I know what you're thinking, "Kate, you cannot coordinate a contractor do dig out the hardwood floors and put in hay, your husband will not like living in a barn without his prior knowledge." I ensure you, what I was on the phone about was more along the lines of, "Hi, I'd like a basic utility turned on at my house so it doesn't feel like I'm camping."
The woman's question made me think that there had to be a smart and witty way to catch her off guard in her moment of judgement, but sadly, I do my best thinking after a battle. I hope she's reading because here are my post-battle responses to, "Does your husband know what you're doing?"
- Yes teacher, I have my field trip permission slip signed by someone who can make all decisions for me. But I'm very proud that I was able to put my Velcro shoes on the correct feet today.
- No, he has no clue what I'm doing. I moved half way across the country for his career and I plan to buy a big house without him knowing, just so I can live there alone. It's all part of my evil plan.
- Silly person on the phone, you don't even know what I'm doing. You think I'm calling you to set things up, but I am actually just surfing youtube for silly cat videos while I wait to talk to someone who treats married women with respect.
- Bless your heart. Your husband must do everything for you. It must be so hard to live in a culture where you don't get a vote.
- Does your husband know what you're doing? Because if you think I'm crazy for placing a phone call, your husband must be super angry with your career choice to be a receptionist.
- Oh, he knows we're buying a house, but he doesn't know that I'm currently second in line at the tattoo parlor to get my ex-boyfriend's name stamped on my lower back (tastefully, I'll put the name in the branches of a tree).
- Wait, what year is it? You mean it's not 1950 where women couldn't have a credit card or own property in their own name? For a second there I thought I accidentally fell into a time machine (if hot tubs can be time machines, why can't my smart phone?)
- Yes, I video tape and record everything I do and at the end of the day he watches everything and gives me a review. He ranks the highest and most interesting moments and then we send the videos to Ryan Seacrest in attempt to get our own reality TV show (too bad "Call me Cait" is taken).
The actual diatribe this poor woman got from me was more along the lines of, "I don't need a hall pass from my husband to place a phone cal,l" and "We practice equality in our marriage." Looking back, I was probably too preachy for this person, and a little humor could have changed her outlook, verses putting her on the defense.