After spending almost two weeks’ wages in one day during yet another trip to Green Street this weekend, I think it’s safe to declare that my trousseau is officially complete. Along with gathering mounds of sarees, shalwar kameezes, bangles, sandals etc etc etc, I have also been trying to adjust my attitude. I was in the kitchen when my mother told my elder sister to take her husband some water/food/tea. I started to say, “Does he not have functioning arms and legs?” but stopped myself lest my mother starts lecturing me on the virtues of a good wife.
That unvoiced comment helped me figure it out though: the key to being the perfect wife. It’s simple: you just pretend that your husband doesn’t have any legs and do stuff the way you would if it were actually true; you would not only make his breakfast/lunch/dinner/tea but you would take it to him, you would constantly check if he was ok and ask if he needs anything, you would run his bath, bring him the remote, fetch the paper etc etc etc.
Ok so, yes, this post is meant to be tongue-in-cheek but I still reckon it’s a neat trick. This way you’re not succumbing to a life of subservience but one of benevolence and a quiet amusement.