Survival tips for close quarters during confinement

There comes a time in every marriage where a man must ask himself, “Am I annoying my wife?”

For me, that time was 3:30 a.m., and I was frozen in a half-crouch somewhere between the side of the bed and the nightstand. Sue was doing her best to help me stand, or sit, or walk or something that would result in progress toward the very urgent goal of reaching the bathroom. But, every slight movement brought with it a new spasm, and a most pitiful groan.

I felt a little twinge earlier that evening in what my chiropractor, Dr. Lou, refers to as the lower “tramp-stamp” region of my back. I went to bed hoping that it would all work itself out by morning. That’s the kind of willful negligence that lead to cat-tail-caught-in-a-door-like screams that woke Sue in the middle of the night so she could stand helplessly by my side for the entire 20-minute shuffle to the bathroom.

Oh, how I envy young people and their stories about how they injure their backs. Typically, it is the result of a mountain climbing accident involving a 50-foot fall into a rocky crevasse, then a mauling by a mountain lion and an unlikely recovery facilitated by a herd of mountain goats. The retelling of these tales consumes hours and draws audiences in by the dozens. But, being over 50, my audiences rarely number more than one (Sue) and my stories rarely stretch past two words, such as “I sneezed” or “I coughed,” or perhaps even, “I breathed.”

I telemedicined Dr. Lou the next morning to ask if there was some kind of back brace I could wear at night to help with my trips to the bathroom.

“Sounds more like you could use some Depends,” he said, between bites of a Honeycrisp apple. “With everyone working from home, the only time our wives get a break from us is when they’re sleeping. Don’t annoy your wife by waking her up at night or you’ll be sleeping on the garage floor and your back will never heal.” Seems that chiropractic college is not charm school, but it is loaded with practical knowledge.

With the world in near-total lockdown, it is more important than ever that we menfolk take count on how best not to annoy our wives:

Do some, but not all, of the laundry. I’ve done my own laundry for years, but never in that time did I launder an item so confounding as a bra. Turns out, bras have rules: The first rule is that no bra is ever allowed in the dryer. Ever. The second rule, which is far more important than the first, is that I am not allowed to comment when Sue places one of her bras in the dryer. This would seem to be in clear violation of rule number one, but I assure you, it is not.

Wear ear plugs. Next to wedding rings, there is no greater symbol of a blissful marriage than a pair of form-fitting, 32 db-noise-reducing foam ear plugs on the nightstand. As part of a two-snorer marriage, a restful night of sleep used to depend solely on who got to sleep first. But, pop a couple of these foam wonders into the external auditory canals, and a full night’s sleep for both is moments away. The danger comes in wearing these peacemakers in the daytime, where they are known to be ripped from one’s ears, and you find yourself posed with the question as to whether you have been wearing them the entire time your spouse has been talking. At this point, it is best to choose your words wisely…

Unfriend your wife. While talk of “social distancing” is all the rage, too little attention has been paid to the importance of “social network distancing” between spouses. Specifically, your wife does not want to hear of all your Facebook and Twitter battles over which idiot relative or former high school classmate is in lockstep with which Russian Troll farm. Guess what? Your wife may not share your opinion on these matters or she may simply wish to remain friends with her side of the family. So shut your trap, already.

While we find ourselves confined to close quarters, it is important that we give each other the space we need as individuals.

In our case, that has been rather easy: Sue roams about the house, while my back has me confined to our room. And, thanks to the advice of Dr. Lou, there really is no reason for me to leave the bed. Sue may soon have a different opinion, but for now, it works.