The Yes Man

I have never been accused of being a “Yes Man” in my life. It is actually a point of pride; a badge I openly wear on my shoulder. I have my father to thank for it, and his father before him, I presume. I’m also pretty sure it’s a trait in my father’s mother as well - Grandma Helen was a pistol.

At any rate, I have often been heard saying, “I’ll do what I want.” Usually, this is followed by an action I will most likely regret, but I like to learn the hard way. Experience = Wisdom, right?

I will be so wise one day.

I don’t mean to come across selfish. I just have some strong opinions, and when I set my mind to something, it’s hard to change the path.

With the career change from principal to traveling salesman though, there was a big switch in my philosophy. I realized I would need to be more flexible, adaptable, have an agile personality.

Translation: I realized my wife would be footing the bills while I floundered in a pre-midlife crisis career change and asked for an allowance while I made no discernible income to add to our “joint” savings account, or even cover my own expenses.

The gist: We live in Austin. I work in Florida. I am gone two-three weeks at a time. My wife pays the bills.

When I am home, I cannot say no to bonding activities I usually would steer clear of, as we have limited time together and need to soak it up:

“Hey babe, want to go out to eat?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Hey babe, want to go to a wine tasting?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Hey babe, want to (insert activity (you get what I mean)).”

“Yes, dear.”

In fact, the only thing I do not have to say yes to is sitting around on the couch watching TV all day.

Texas is a land of sunshine with hardly any rain (despite the slow falling shower occurring as I write) and my wife knows I cannot sit still.

This is a trait I have most definitely inherited from my mother. If she sits long enough to drink an entire cup of coffee, she has wasted half the day.

Any other activity the wife picks is an automatic yes. I cannot say no.

I secretly hope she picks things like rock climbing, hiking, going to a Chinese buffet, candy shopping, or riding on the back of the Harley for three days straight.

Nope.

We are doing a juice cleanse.

That’s right. I said “yes.”

I eat meat as a meal twice a day. I have cereal with real milk everyday for breakfast, but for the next three days, I will drink six bottles of juice a day, no dairy or solid foods allowed.

Kill me now.

The three-day juice cleanse starts tomorrow. Nothing like being hungry for three days straight, with no caffeine. I never said no to this, but I did try my best to dissuade the decision.

First, I appealed to the ridiculousness of the financial aspect.

“Babe, these juices are like $7 each. We have to buy 12 a day total. We are going to be paying close to $100 dollars a day to starve.”

“So, I really want to try this. I think it will help me quit smoking.”

Nail in the coffin. How can I argue with that? Damnit. She’s too smart for me.

But I did keep trying. “Babe, are you going to be able to do this at work? I mean I’ll be home all day, but a juice cleanse pretty much puts your bathroom needs at a moments’ notice. What about your meetings and conference calls?”

“It’ll be fine.”

Of course it will be fine.

I stocked up on toilet paper.