Jerry was furious. He had just been walking by Molly’s computer when he noticed a picture of himself on the side of a partially written article. In bold letters at the top was “Blog of a Bored Housewife.” Jerry leaned in closer to read:
Well, the master of the house has been at it again. Yesterday he hit a new low in his record of infractions as he left his dirty socks from the day before on the floor of the bedroom, his shaving cream on the sink, and his breakfast dishes on the table before he hurried out the door to play golf with his frie
Jerry sat at the computer and scrolled down to read earlier posts. Her blog seemed to be made up of a litany of complaints in which he took top billing. She never got to go anywhere, he read, because she was tied down by a fussy baby and a thoughtless husband. She had no time for herself and her writing.
“Hmm,” he thought, “seems like she’s found some time for herself to write.” At first, as he reviewed some of the things she had said about him, he was irritated, but the more he read, the angrier he became.
Had she written a whole post about him drinking straight from the jar of orange juice that was in the refrigerator? Had she reported in another that he left his gardening tools out in the rain, the newspaper on the floor by his chair, and the cap off the toothpaste?
When he read a post about his personal habits, he couldn’t believe his eyes. He saw that he was guilty of burping without saying “Excuse me,” and that he . . .”Wait!” he thought, “did she really write that?”
“Oops,” Molly said as she came into the bedroom and saw Jerry sitting at her computer. “Jimmy was crying, and in my hurry to check on him, I forgot to turn my computer off. I hope you aren’t mad at me. I was just having a little fun with my new blog.”
“But, Molly,” protested Jerry, “Not ALL of this is true.”
“I know, Dear, but I’m a writer, and we use our imaginations to embroider what we write.”
Jerry snorted at that. “Well, here’s something to sew into your blog: I cleaned up after supper last night and put the dishes in the dishwasher for you because Jimmy had been fussy all day, and you were tired. Then when he cried in the night, I got up with him—all this after the very difficult day at work I’d had, providing for my family. I believe I could write a very interesting blog about you and some of your habits without needing to embroider at all.”
“You wouldn’t really do that, would you, Honey?” Molly leaned in past Jerry’s shoulder and kissed his cheek.
“Sweet talk is one thing,” said Jerry, “but I expect a whole lot more than that.”
Molly sighed, “how about I delete this blog and start another one that’s all true about how Christian couples can encourage each other?”
“That would be great,” said Jerry. “Anything else?”
“Well, maybe a little more than sweet talk?”
He smiled. “Now you’re talking, Sweetheart!”
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