Y D U

My best friend called me last night and the conversation started like this:

K: Just call me YDU from now on, okay?
Me: [Laughing because I knew this had to be a good one] Um...Why 'why-dee-you?' Dare I ask?
K: Because everything anyone in this house says to me begins with "Why did you..." or "Why didn't you..." I'm tired of being asked "Why did you move my socks? Why didn't you tell me to bring home bread?" "Why didn't you this...why did you that? I can't take it any more."

The conversation went on from there about how we, as wives and mothers, are often called upon to be not only the eyes and ears of our husbands and children, but their brains as well. It seems like we are responsible for everything everyone does all day long. If they forget their lunch, we're responisble. If they lose their glasses, we're responsible. If they're late for dinner or late for work, somehow it's we who made them late.

Why?

Because we are the brain.

The modern nuclear family, it seems, has become a sort of Borg collective run by a Queen. At first glance that might seem not so bad, being the undisputed leader of an army of drones. But believe me, it ain't a picnic. It's not about commanding legions to do our bidding, as much as it's about making sure every one of those legions is wearing clean undies and has a spare buck or two tucked in their back pocket in case of emergency. It's about having answers before the questions are asked.

And it gets to be exhausting. K and I ranted about it for half an hour, until her husband strolled in looking for some paperwork that he needed. His conversation with her began: "Why did you..."
She hung up, I assume to beat him over the head with a heavy metal object.