Something happens to a man when he hits middle age. He begins to go from impatient young dude to Intolerant Grumpy Old Man. I think this happens to most men by the time they hit 50. Sure, they still have the sense of humour when it suits them (like when they are flirting with pretty women,) but at home, behind the scenes, they are impatient, intolerant, and grumpy.
Most of the time, we women can ignore grumpy. Heck, most of us are famous for attacks of PMS bitchiness, but by about the time we get too old for PMS, our male counterparts have taken it on for themselves. They’re yelling at the newscasters, calling the ads on TV stupid and childish, rant at other drivers on the road, and want to send all tradespeople to hell in a broken washing machine.
Even Bob is grumpy.
My older women friends with retired husbands are being driven barmy by them. These guys do nothing but complain about everything all day. The husbands criticise the wives for wanting to be with their friends, spend time with the kids, and for not being able to pull the refrigerator out from the wall in order to dust behind it. Guys, who were managers during their career lives, suddenly need something else to manage and mold, and most of the time that means the wives.
Soon, though, the women find their husbands’ grumpiness rubbing off on them. Having a Grumpy Old Man for a husband tends to make one irritable. They suddenly realise that they are complaining (along with him) about things they never cared a fig about before. They start believing that all people are idiots and that no one knows how to drive. And tradespeople? You wouldn’t feed ‘em if they were starving. Heaven knows why this happens, but it does. Call it a Miracle of Nature: two bodies mestastasizing into one entity.
Next time you see a grumpy, miserable, complaining older couple, take pity on them. They are waiting for people to get smarter, the news to stop being so bleak, and for the washing machine repair person just to show up on the day that he says that he will. My husband reminds me that he is not quite 50 and I have a three-year reprieve. Heaven help me. |
posted by Melanie O. at 
