Alexander and the Wonderful, Marvelous, Excellent, Terrific Ninety Days by Judith Viorst

Author:Judith Viorst
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Free Press
Published: 2007-05-26T16:00:00+00:00

One striking aspect of two married couples living together in the same house over time is that we become witnesses to each other’s marriage. We hear each other’s irritated “yes, dears.” We notice each other’s cold glances and stormy brows. We read the subtext of unspoken resentments. We vibrate to the urgency that’s buried beneath a quiet, “I need you here—now.” And if the marriage we’re witnessing belongs to our very own son and daughter-in-law, we’re paying more than ordinary attention.

But along with taking note of the expectable everyday tensions of married life, Milton and I are having the pleasure of seeing, day after day, what a mutually loving, respectful, modern, truly egalitarian marriage looks like. And we’re giving ourselves some credit for what we see.

Just last week, in fact, when I was rinsing off some saucers and cups in the sink, Alexander walked into the kitchen and, in mock amazement, stopped dead and stared. “No offense, Mom,” he said, “but I think this may be the first time in my life that I’ve ever actually seen you washing dishes.”

He exaggerates, of course. But not by much. For when he was growing up—in a household four-fifths of which was male—the prevailing rule was Women Don’t Do Dishes. And having watched his father, with equal adroitness, put on an apron and whip up breakfast, or put on a baseball mitt and field a ball, or put him to bed while I finished writing an article, he (and both of his brothers) acquired a broadened, enlightened view of what it really meant to be a man.

Now I’m not prepared to claim that Milton and I have a “truly egalitarian” marriage. But he was, from the start, more involved with the house and the kids, with the domestic side of life, than any other husband that I knew. And if he believed that women were born with a gene that, unlike men, equipped them to tolerate changing dirty diapers, there were plenty of other things he was willing to do. Well before the Women’s Movement was raising men’s consciousness, my husband knew that in order for our family, with three children and two working parents, to stay afloat, he had to pitch in.

Alexander does more than pitch in. He does half. And he does it without being told what he has to do. And, unlike many husbands and wives, who stake out separate realms of expertise—the daddy barbecues, the mom wipes bottoms; the daddy does playgrounds, the mom does pediatricians—both he and Marla can, and do, do it all.

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