“Honey, What Should I Wear?”
How to put down the remote, look her in the eyes, and tell her what she needs to hear.
 
“What do you think—red or black?”

I looked up from my reading to see my wife, Beth, standing in the doorway. In one hand she held a red dress, in the other a black dress. Her question reminded me that I would soon need to join her in getting ready for the banquet my company was hosting that evening.

She continued: “I think I wore the greenish pantsuit last year, because it was right after we had Ethan [our youngest son], and I needed something looser fitting…”

Suddenly, panic set in. This question wasn’t a simple choice between red and black. This was one of those trick “greenish pantsuit” questions—the kind that if answered carelessly could bring days of marital strife.

 I tried to rewind my mind to the last time I answered a question like this, remembering only that I had answered poorly. The details  sailed through my brain: Green pantsuit… Beth was pregnant… Football was on the tube… I gave a half-hearted answer… Beth stormed out of the room… I was in the doghouse.

Experiences like the greenish pantsuit, if revisited often enough in a marriage, will eventually give a husband the training he needs for discerning the difference between the question that is asked and the questions that is intended.

The first few times I went through this training, I was naïve enough to think my wife actually wanted my opinion on what to wear. Ha! What foolish thinking I was prone to in those early years.

You see, my wife is bright, independent and fairly decisive. Not only are her fashion tastes light years ahead of mine, she’s actually been herself for years now. While we make many decision together as a couple, I could count on one hand the times she has helplessly come to me for advice. But I couldn’t begin to count the times she has come to me for affirmation. And that’s what I suddenly remembered. She didn’t want advice; she wanted affirmation! She needed a little confidence.

So now I was ready for the trick question. The one that isn’t so tricky once you know the trick. I put down my book, stood up and went over to inspect the dresses. I wanted her to know that she had my undivided attention. (If you’re watching television when the “What should I wear?” questions comes, hitting the mute button is OK, but turning off the TV scores bonus points.)

I began my response circuitously. “I don’t know; you look good in both of these dresses. Which one do you like best?”

“Well, I was kind of leaning toward the red one, but I wanted to know what you think…”

“Yes, the red one’s nice,” I said with a smile. Then I took Beth’s hand, looked her in the eyes, and told her what she really needed to hear: “I know it can be a big deal to dress up and go out with all these people I work with, and that you want to look nice. I don’t know if I’ve told you this recently, but every time we go out like this, I am so proud to have you by my side. You are beautiful and posed and intelligent. Whatever you wear, I know you’ll look great and you’ll be charming, and it will be one more time that I’ll be so glad I married you.” It was sappy, but it was honest sap.

I’ve relied on this approach many times since, and it always invites a kiss, and a hug, and puts a life in my wife’s step as she goes to slip on the red (or black, or green) outfit. And then, 45 minutes later, as she puts the finishing touches on her hair, I’ll walk through our bedroom and into our closet.

And when I come out with a shirt and tie that I consider a pretty snazzy ensemble, she’ll look up at me with a pained expression and say, “You’re not going to wear that, are you?”

By Nate Adams, author of Nine Character Traits Separating the Men from the Boys (Bethany House).