When our youngest son was an infant, I read the Vietnamese 'Boat People' (refugees fleeing civil war who sought to reach safety in the United States) brought a certain influenza to our shores for which American babies had no immunity. The article mentioned the influenza was contracted through hands touching things infected people had touched so I immediately made a note to remind myself...'Take rubber gloves for shopping.'

That evening while fixing dinner I brought the article to my husband's attention along with the obvious remedy, but his reaction was totally unexpected.

After dinner, with all sincerity I said, "Listen dear, whenever we go shopping I think the safest course of action would be to wear rubber gloves." He looked aghast and blurtered out some misogynistic statement about how, "No wife of mine is going to wear rubber gloves while shopping!" I stared at him as if he were the one with the screw loose and marched upstairs.

No word about the topic was further discussed for the better part of the week-end until Sunday morning. It is my husband's helpful habit to wash up Sunday breakfast dishes. On this particular Sunday for some reason, for which I have NO explanation, he had also decided to wear my 'hot pink' colored rubber gloves.

Of course the gloves are too small for his hands. God knows how he ever got them on in the first place. I watched him as he struggled to remove them and finally in desperation he turned to me for help, at which point I flashed him my very best Parade Princess smile and said, "Darling, since you are already wearing the gloves why not attend to the grocery shopping this morning?"

My husband is a 6'3" gentle man but when he is mad, he has a very interesting way of showing his frustration. I call it his 'Duck Walk', which is to say he marches back and forth across a room bobbing his head forward and back as a way to further punctuate the words his is spewing, "I-will-NOT-be- married-to-a-Howard-Hughes-Ette!" With no reason to add to the furor of the moment, I instead carefully plotted a response.

In the dark and upon climbing into bed that night I lay waiting for my husband in great anticipation of when he would sidle over to my side of the bed for a good night kiss. I wrapped my arms around him and then placed my rubber gloved hands upon his back!  He screamed, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!" and I laughed until I cried.

For months and with great relish and much hilarity, I retold this story to our friends. That led to lots of teasing, in particular by a fraternity brother of my husband's for whenever visiting, he took utter delight in shaking the hand of my husband while wearing rubber gloves.

Hide A Heart