Young Mr. Jones was perplexed. Just two months ago, he’d married the most beautiful woman he’d ever met. Though they hadn’t known one another long, it was clear they were meant for each other. They said their vows, looked upon one another with love, and started their new lives together. Now it seemed as though nothing he did or said could please his young bride. She seemed to think him incapable of the simplest things. She argued with him at every turn. If he said left, she said right. If he said up, she said down. She was particularly upset if he left any item of clothing on the floor. He tried to remember this, but if his thoughts were preoccupied with something, it wasn’t always on his mind to make sure his socks made it into the clothes hamper. Lately, if she saw something of his on the floor, she would roll her eyes, and pick it up with a grim set to her mouth. He got up in the morning before she did and made sure to greet her cheerfully every morning when she got up. For this, he either got a dirty look or no response. And if all that wasn’t enough, he’d be begun to notice a strange leak in the house, just a little dripping here and there. He wasn’t sure where it was coming from and he could never actually spot water on the ceiling. Nevertheless, it had to be coming from somewhere. When he asked his wife if she was feeling it, she gave an irritable sigh and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re imagining things.”
Young Mrs. Jones was irritated. She had thought Mr. Jones to be the perfect man until she started living with him. Good grief, he couldn’t even pick his clothes up off the floor! Did he think she was his maid? Wasn’t it enough that she did all the cooking? He didn’t make any allowances for the fact that she had times of the month when she was moody. She couldn’t help that! He also seemed to think that she should start her day as cheerfully as he did. Cheerful?! When she hadn’t had her coffee yet? Well, she loved him, but he was turning out to be an awful lot of work. He was continually making little mistakes that she had to correct. How he had ever been able to drive someplace before she came along was a mystery to her. She wasn’t being argumentative; he just needed guidance. She sighed as she thought about his latest preoccupation. He had begun talking as if there was water dripping from their ceiling. She’d never felt any such thing so she discounted it, but there was no doubt he was beginning to look a little moist around the edges.
Young Mr. Jones was confused. He had thought married life was going to be a joy, and that they’d face difficulties together. When they were engaged, people had joked about how they’d regret getting married, saying “It’s not too late to back out!” but he and his fiancé laughed that off. Two people who loved one another as much as they did would never feel that way. How quickly things had changed. He was a fairly mild mannered fellow, but even his patience was wearing thin when they were in the car together. From her perspective, every maneuver he made needed her input. Well, he loved her and wanted to please her, so he would see this through. The dripping seemed to be getting worse, however, so he decided to go up in the attic to see if he could spot any problems from up there. Lo and behold, he found a corner of the attic where there was no dripping whatsoever. What a relief! He took to going up there more often just to be in a dry place. He furnished it with a plump armchair and a lamp, and brought up his books.
Young Mrs. Jones was incensed. She noticed that Mr. Jones seemed to disappear entirely for long stretches of time when he was supposed to be home. She thought perhaps he was out running errands, but when she looked in the garage, his car was there. Perhaps he was puttering in the back yard? But no. Was he going out for walks? If so, why didn’t he say something when he left? She was busy with the unending tasks of cleaning and cooking, as well as the amount of time it took for her to get caught up with important discussions on social media. She had created an Instagram account called “Keeping the Home,” where she put photos from her immaculately decorated home, and she curated discussions about the newlywed life for young wives. It turned out she wasn’t the only one experiencing a bit of “shock” after the wedding. She felt proud of her attempts to provide a safe place where they could all support one another. These things kept her so busy that she didn’t noticed her husband’s absence at first. But really! Where was he when she needed him to do something around the house? He always showed up for meals and disappeared again after doing the clean up. (They had agreed, upon her recommendation, that since she was doing all the cooking, he should do all the clean up.) Last night, she decided to follow him, and what did she find but that he had created his own little nook up in the attic! The selfishness of the man! Well, at least now she knew where to go when she had jobs for him to do.
Young Mr. Jones was in a pickle. He’d been found out! Cornered! That had been an unpleasant scene. He supposed he shouldn’t have been “hiding” from his wife. He tried to explain that he was just trying to stay dry, but that seemed to make her even more angry. Worst of all, as soon as she’d found his little corner, the attic had sprung a leak of some sort and the dripping started up even there. He’d better give some serious thought to the situation. He sat down on his formerly comfortable armchair, but sprang up again when he realized it was a little damp. This was untenable! He’d have to straighten Mrs. Jones out with some plain talk, appealing to her love for him. He’d gone downstairs with firm resolve, but without losing his temper. He got Mrs. Jone’s attention, which was not very easy. She was looking at her tablet and typing something that seemed vitally important to her. “Yes?” she finally answered, looking peeved. He laid it all out, telling her the ways things would have to change between them if their marriage was going to succeed. She did not take this well. “You’ve got some nerve! I bend over backwards continually to make life better for you and this is the thanks I get? I’m a forgiving woman, so we’ll just pretend this conversation never happened.” And with that, she went back to her device, tsking to herself as she continued typing.
Young Mrs. Jones was actually pleased to have more fodder for her latest post for young wives. This latest incident with her husband would fit right in with her remarks about the need for wives to be understanding and forgiving when their husbands blundered and ran roughshod over their feelings. It was late when she went to bed and she didn’t notice that Mr. Jones was not in the bed. She got up in the morning and was vaguely aware that Mr. Jones wasn’t there with his irritatingly cheerful greeting. “Well, at least he’s stopped that nonsense,” she said to herself. She had a nice leisurely time drinking her coffee and it wasn’t until she got up to put her coffee cup on the counter that she noticed a note that Mr. Jones had left for her, no doubt an apology for his rude behavior from the night before. She picked it up and read
“To my wife,
I can’t live with you. I have gone to the wilderness to be by myself. Don’t try to find me.
Your husband, Mr. Jones”
“Of all the NERVE!” Mrs. Jones yelled to no one. She paced angrily around the kitchen for a few minutes, but soon calmed down. Life might actually be easier for her without him around. She felt certain that her online community of young wives would be sympathetic and gather around (metaphorically) to comfort her in her hour of need. She sat down and began a new post for her account.
“…the contentions of a wife are a continual dripping.” Proverbs 19:11b
“A continual dripping on a very rainy day and a contentious woman are alike; whoever restrains her restrains the wind and grasps oil with his right hand.” Proverbs 27:15-16
“Better to dwell in a corner of a housetop, than in a house shared with a contentious woman.” Proverbs 21:9
“Better to dwell in the wilderness, than with a contentious and angry woman.” Proverbs 21:19
Better to delete the post in the morning than to keep it.
Lynniebeemuseoday 