by Jack Weyland
Heather had a taste of the muffin. “Oh, this is so delicious! Did you make these?”
“Yes, it’s an old family recipe.”
Amanda took a bite. “Oh, gosh, can we have the recipe?”
“Of course you can. I’ll write it down for you.”
“Can we have a taste?” I asked timidly.
She got in my face. “Did I say you could talk?”
“No, Chief Dietician Jones!” I called out.
“Have you ever spent a night in jail?” she asked.
“No, Chief Dietician Jones!”
“Well, keep it up and you’ll have that experience!”
She wrote down the recipe for the muffins, all the while Cody and I were standing at attention.
Finally it was time to get to work. She placed two large bright red balloons in front of Cody and me on the counter. “I want you two to blow up these balloons as big as you can. You may now proceed to blow up the balloons.”
Cody and I blew up the balloons. When I finished, I started to tie the end so no air could escape.
“Do not tie them shut!” she yelled at me. “Hold it in such a way that no air escapes. Is that clear?” she shouted.
“Yes, Chief Dietician Jones!” I answered back.
“You may now each hand the balloon to your wife!”
We did what she said.
“All right, now let’s suppose that each of you clowns have done something that made your wife mad at you.”
She turned to talk to Heather and Amanda. “The air in your balloon represents the frustration, anger, and hurt feelings you’re experiencing. If your husband says something that helps relieve those feelings, you can let a little bit of air out of the balloon. Okay?” she asked politely.
Heather and Amanda nodded their heads.
“Okay, let’s begin. What are some of the things your husband says to you after he’s messed up that makes you even madder at him?”
Heather sighed. “When Jason says, ‘I’m sorry you misunderstood what I said.’”
“Why does that make you mad?” Chief Dietician Jones asked.
“Because it’s like he thinks I’m not smart enough to understand what he says.”
Chief Dietician Jones got in my face again. “Do you think your wife is stupid?”
“No, Chief Dietician Jones! I do not think that!”
She turned to Amanda. “What annoying things does Cody say to you when he’s messed up?”
“Sometimes he says ‘You have no reason to feel that way.’”
“And does that help?”
“No, not at all. Who is he to tell me how I should feel?”
Chief Dietician Jones turned to glare at Cody and me. “Do not, I repeat, do not twist an apology into an opportunity to blame your wife for the problem. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, Chief Dietician Jones!” we yelled in unison.
“Let me give you a little example,” she said. She pointed to me. “Put your hand on the counter.”
I did.
She whacked my hand with the yardstick.
“Did that hurt?” she yelled.
“Yes, Chief Dietician Jones!”
“You have no right to feel hurt!” she yelled back.
She turned and smiled at Amanda and Heather, then turned back to me. “Did my telling you that you had no right to feel hurt help you in any way?”
“No.”
She smiled. “I rest my case. Girls, what else do your husbands say to you that doesn’t help?”
“Once, when I was pregnant with our second baby,” Heather said, “Jason said, ‘You’re so emotional now. You’ll feel different after you’ve had the baby.’”
“He actually said that to you?” Amanda asked.
“Yes he did. Do you remember that, Jason?”
“No.”
Amanda continued. “Cody likes to try to make me feel guilty for what he did wrong by saying, ‘You’re the one who always says we need to . . . ’”
Heather chimed in. “Jason does that too! And also he says, ‘I was only trying to . . . ’”
“What do you want your husbands to say to you?” Chief Dietician Jones asked.
“It would be nice if they would take responsibility for their actions,” Amanda said.
“You mean like actually apologize?” Chief Dietician Jones asked.
“Yes, but a real apology,” Heather said.
“Try it,” Chief Dietician Jones said to me.
“I’m sorry I forgot your birthday,’” I said.
“How’s that?” Chief Dietician Jones asked Heather.
“It’s a start.”
“Why is it only a start?”
“Because I still have all these pent-up feelings. And even if he apologizes, those feelings are still there. I need to tell him how I felt.”
“Why can’t you do that?”
“Because when I try, he says, ‘Look, I already said I’m sorry. How many times are you going to keep bringing this up? Can’t we just move on with our life?’”
“And does that help?”
“No, it never does.”
“Why?”
Heather looked at the inflated balloon. “The feelings are still there and he needs to hear them. If he really loves me, I’d think he would want to know how I felt.”
“So tell him now.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” Chief Dietician Jones asked.
“Because it will only make him mad.”
“Go ahead. I’ll talk him through this.”
She began. “Jason, when you forget important dates, like my birthday or our anniversary, it makes me think you don’t really care that much for me. It makes me think that the only reason I’m important to you is because of what I do for you every day . . . which you also pretty much take for granted.”
They all turned to me.
“Go ahead,” Chief Dietician Jones said.
I shrugged. “I’ve already apologized. What else can I do?”
Amanda interrupted. “You can let her vent her feelings.”
“Let’s try that,” Chief Dietician Jones said to Heather. “What feelings did you have when you realized your husband had forgotten your birthday?”
“He can tell you the statistics for every Yankee game for the past five years. So why can’t he remember my birthday? Jason, on my last birthday, since you didn’t say anything to me at breakfast, I talked myself into thinking you’d planned some big surprise for me. But then when you called and said you had to work late, I wondered if that was just a cover for the surprise, like maybe you’d pull up in a rented limousine and take me and the kids out to dinner. But then by seven when you hadn’t come, I began to think that I didn’t really matter much in your life. And then when you gave me some random card and a bunch of wrenches, it was proof to me that you don’t really care for me that much.”
“What are you going to say to that?” Chief Dietician Jones asked.
“I’m sorry.”
Chief Dietician Jones slammed the yardstick on the kitchen counter. “You’ve already said that!”
I shrugged. “What else can I say?”
“How about this?” Amanda suggested. “‘You must have felt so bad knowing I hadn’t done anything to show you how much I love you.’”
“If Jason said that to you, what would you say?” Chief Dietician Jones asked Heather.
“I’d say, ‘Yes, that’s exactly how I felt. My gosh, I’m the mother of your kids. I’m the one who washes your clothes and cooks your meals. We sleep in the same bed. Don’t I deserve more consideration than this?’”
“And would letting him know how you feel relieve some of the hurt?” Chief Dietician Jones asked.
“Yes, it would.”
“If what happened just now helped, let some of the air out of your balloon.”
Heather let a small amount of air out of the balloon.
“Is all of the air out of her balloon?” Chief Dietician Jone
s asked me.
“No, Chief Dietician Jones, there is still air in the balloon!” I shouted back.
“What do you suppose that means?” Chief Dietician Jones asked me.
I sighed. “It means she’s not done yet.”
“So say something that will let more air out.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what to say.”
Heather came over to me. “Jason, it’s not that hard. I need to let you know how I felt as the day went on and I heard nothing from you about what you’d planned for us on my birthday.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know what you felt.”
“Then guess.”
“At first you hoped I’d planned a surprise, but then, as the day went on, so when you realized I’d completely forgotten it, you must have been disappointed in me.”
“Yes, I felt hurt and undervalued.” She let some air out of her balloon.
“It must have been hard to realize that once again I’d taken you for granted.”
Heather let more air escape from the balloon. And with that air, a tear rolled down her cheek.
“Every day I need to know you love and appreciate me,” she said. “When that doesn’t happen, I feel bad.”
“I guess I didn’t know that. I thought that my working hard every day would be proof enough that I love you.”
“I do appreciate what you do for us and our children. But even so, I need something every day.”
“I will do try to do that from now on. I am truly sorry I disappointed you.”
Heather let all the air out of her balloon and set it on the counter.
And then Cody and Amanda tried it. They did it faster because they’d seen us.
“What have you two clowns learned today?” Chief Dietician Jones asked us.
“That I have to apologize and also that I need to give Heather an opportunity to vent her feelings when I disappoint her.”
“Is that right, girls?” Chief Dietician Jones asked.
Amanda and Heather nodded.
Chief Dietician Jones placed each of the balloons in a tiny jewelry box and presented them to Heather first and then Amanda. “The next time you need to express your frustrations to your husband, take this box out and blow up the balloon and hand it your husband.”
She turned to Cody and me. “When you see the balloon, will you know what to do?”
“Yes, Chief Dietician Jones!” Cody and I both said.
“Then get out of my sight. And don’t ever give your wives a reason to bring you back. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Chief Dietician Jones!”
On the way out, Heather gave Chief Dietician Jones a hug, said a few words of appreciation to her and gave her a pass-along card. Amanda hugged her as well.
Once we got home, Heather placed the box containing the balloon on our dresser so it would always be in sight of both of us.
As much as I hate to say it, it has been helpful.
Chapter Four
What Good Is a Family Reunion Anyway?
Don’t blame me for our having a family reunion. It was Heather’s parents’ idea.
“We’ll rent a big house so we all can be together,” her dad said when they were visiting us. “We’ve found a place on a lake not too far from Yellowstone Park. It’s got seven bedrooms and a bathroom in each bedroom so we’ll all be able to fit in.”
“Sounds expensive,” I said.
“Don’t worry. We’ll take care of the rent and the food,” her dad said. “We’re thinking of renting the place for a week.”
“Isn’t that great?” Heather asked with her usual enthusiasm.
Heather has three sisters and two brothers. Each of them has at least three kids. Picture this: Each bedroom (except her parents, of course) will have a minimum of five people sleeping with only one bed. That means kids will be strewn on the floor in sleeping bags. Every night for a week. With no alone time for Heather and me.
The lack of alone time would be a little too awkward to bring to Heather’s parents’ attention. They already have suspicions about me in that regard. Mainly because they found out that on our honeymoon we spent three days in a hotel just a block from Temple Square and, if you can believe it, never once visited the Family History Center.
So I had to come up with another reason why this was a bad idea. “Sounds great, but my guess is that it’s going to be very difficult to get everyone’s schedule freed up on the same week.”
“We’re working on that right now,” my father-in-law said.
“I’m not sure I’d even be able to get away,” I said. “Summer is our busy time of year, you know.”
“We were thinking of doing it over the Fourth of July,” my father-in-law said. “We’ll get into the house Friday afternoon. Monday is the Fourth of July, so really you’d only need to take off work Tuesday through Thursday, and you’d be back the next Friday, so really you’d only miss three days of work.”
“I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem,” Heather said brightly. “The important thing is we’ll all be together.”
“Yes, all of us . . . all in the same house,” I said with little enthusiasm.
“A house by a lake. How fun! We can all go fishing or swimming,” Heather said cheerfully.
From then on I knew the battle was lost so I just nodded politely. I could only hope it would be impossible to get everyone there at the same time.
Surprisingly, Heather’s mom and dad were able to arrange it. And so eventually the day for the dreaded family reunion arrived.
Everything my father-in-law had said was true. The house did have seven bedrooms and it was by a lake. The lake did not have a beach, but it did have plenty of volcanic rock and a dock.
My first impression on entering the place was that it was well decorated. Expensive foot-high bronze sculptures of bears and deer and elk adorned the room. To a father of three boys that can only mean trouble. If they dropped one of them, they might break a toe or, worse, I’d end up having to pay a replacement fee.
So I did the only thing a good father would do. After we unpacked our car, I hauled out all the sculptures and put them in the trunk.
Each family had been assigned to take turns preparing our meals. On that first night one of Heather’s sisters and her husband started to prepare the meal at seven. We ate at nine. It was some kind of European dish involving goat cheese and fish.
After dinner the adults sat around and talked while our kids ran through the woods playing a game called “Bear.” They pretended a bear was chasing them. After a while we got used to them screaming “Bear!” It did occur to me that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, but I didn’t say anything. Eventually the kids went upstairs to bed.
Heather and her siblings hadn’t seen each other for a year so they had a lot to talk about. So on that first night I excused myself at half past ten and made my way up the stairs to our room. Strangely enough, I found not only our three kids, but two others. I took a flashlight and shined it on one of the intruders. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re having a sleepover.”
“Mom said it was okay,” my son Kevin said.
“Oh, well, okay, but I need you to move a little so I don’t step on you in the middle of the night if I need to use the bathroom.”
Eventually I fell asleep. I’m not sure what time Heather came to bed.
The next morning I woke up at six, went downstairs and made myself some hot chocolate.
When I looked down at the dock, I saw my three-year-old nephew Luke standing at the edge of the dock. Worried that he might fall into the water and drown, I ran down to the dock. “Luke, you shouldn’t be down here all alone. Go back and get your mom and dad to come out here.”
He shook his head. “They seeping.”
“Yes, I understand. But I shouldn’t have to be the one here to protect you. That’s their job, not mine. I want to go up and have my breakfast and check my e-mails. I don’t want to be down here babysitting you.”
“How big?” I asked hopefully. I went over to where he was and looked into the water. It was a minnow.
“Yeah, right. Whaddya say we go back inside and I’ll fix you a bowl of cereal. You like ice cream on your cereal?”
“Fishy!”
“Yeah, right, but who cares?”
Three other kids heard us outside and came down to the dock.
“Kids, you know what? I’m going inside to make myself some breakfast. I’m thinking bacon and eggs. In fact, let’s all have bacon and eggs! Let’s all go inside now and get away from the water.”
“Fishy!” Luke called out to his cousins.
They all ended up at the end of the dock looking at the minnows. The water there was at least six feet deep and I had no doubt that if anyone of them fell in, they’d end up drowning.
“Kids, look, is it fair that I’m the only adult out here while all your moms and dads are snoozing away? I didn’t sign up for this. You think I’m the designated lifeguard? Well, I’m not. Your moms and dads are.”
“More fishies!” Luke called out.
It was clear to me they didn’t understand the danger so I picked them up one at a time and set them on dry ground.
“Go talk to your mom and dad. Tell them what you’ve been doing out here all alone on the dock. Ask them if they think that’s okay. If they say it is, then by all means you can come out here and play all you want, but I won’t be here. You understand? If you come out here, you’re on your own. And if you fall into the water and drown, well then that’s just tough.”
They all laughed.
I decided I needed to give them a demonstration. “Okay, look, pretend I’m a little boy and I come out here to look at the fish. Okay? You got it. Okay, here I am walking to the edge of the dock.”
“Fishy, Fishy!” I leaned over the end of the dock and pretended to lose my balance as I fell into the water. The water was so cold!
I came to the surface and purposely flailed about and then slowly sank into the water, swam around the side of the dock and then surfaced again near the rocky beach.