Esther Silvius
Feature and Magazine Writing
Mr. Fred DeArmond
December 1, 1958
Mr. American Husband arrives home from the office just ten minutes after his wife. She has barely had time to change from a smartly dressed matron into an ordinary housewife. Oh, yes, her dinner is started—four frozen meat pies from a freezer well stocked with them, canned soup, and lettuce wedges to be served with a blob of mayonnaise straight from the jar. Is it her fault she had no time to stop at the store for the ingredients for a Caesar’s salad her husband’s favorite? She has spent a strenuous afternoon over a hot bridge table.
Without a word of greeting other than “Hurry, John, dinner is almost ready,” Mr. Husband hangs his hat and coat in the hall closet, loosens his tie and sinks wearily into his favorite chair. At this moment his teenage daughter breezes by with a “Hi’ya daddy-o”, and son drags in with a “Hi’ya pop, can I have the car tonight?”
Is not this a description of dinnertime in the home of the most neglected man in American history, the American husband? Shamefully neglected by his wife, by his daughter and by his son, he is at a loss to understand how the situation came to be.
Hasn’t he worked hard to provide them with most everything they could desire? Didn’t he buy his wife the fur stole she had her heart set on for so long? Isn’t he planning to buy his son that lowered 1952 hardtop Ford with stick-shift, dual carbs and twin pipes? Doesn’t his daughter have everything exactly as all the other girls?
Just as they finish eating, as if by a prearranged agreement, the phone rings and daughter becomes involved in a long conversation. Son simply has to take the car to drive four blocks to see his pal for a few minutes; after all, he hasn’t seen him for almost two hours.
Mr. Husband is so accustomed to helping his wife clear the table and do the dishes, it simply never occurs to him to insist that his daughter do them.
Deplorable? Certainly! But Mr. American Husband himself has to accept most of the blame for his present condition. When first married he was so busy getting started in business that he had little time for his wife. His neglect of her was an unconscious thing; he never really meant to, but it was such a problem making ends meet.
Then the baby came and Mrs. American Wife had little time for her husband. Unless you have a child of your own, it is almost unbelievable how much time it takes to care for one baby. There simply isn’t any left to devote to one’s husband. It is such a relief to get a sitter and spend a few hours with the girls playing bridge. What a blessing are those frozen meat pies.
Then the second baby came and more expense for the husband, more work for the wife. It became sort of a mutual neglect. It was so much easier not to get up and get breakfast that soon it was routine for Mr. Husband to get his own.
Since Mrs. Wife was so busy with two little ones, she often failed to get her husband’s shirts done. So what? We’ll send them to the laundry. Then it became “I never really meant to but I forgot to call the cleaners for your suits, dear. Would you mind dropping them by and be sure to have them sew that button on and fix that hole in the pocket?”
As the children grew older and father’s responsibilities increased, he found less time for the family. It was mother who made most of the decisions; it was mother who answered the children’s questions; it was mother who did the disciplining.
Mr. American Husband just gradually drifted deeper into his life of neglect. His wife’s neglect in failing to get his breakfast has become a habit—he no longer even wishes that she would. His children neglect him because he is so engrossed in his own work that he has no time for them.
The saddest part of this whole situation is that each person is vaguely aware that there is a certain something missing. To a great extent the uneasy feeling which is present in this family has originated in the neglect of small things, not only by the wife, but by the son and daughter.
Tomorrow morning I shall get up and get my husband’s breakfast, spend the day preparing his favorite food, and insist that both children be at home when he arrives. Then Mr. American Husband and I will take the car for our evening out. We will leave the dinner dishes with a direct request that the kitchen be in perfect order when we return.
Teacher’s comment: Amen! You write with verve, and I like your theme and sentence structure. DeA