Monday, July 24, 2006

A Party in the Life of a Military Wife

The commander's wife called me on Friday.

"Hello! I'm just calling to introduce myself. I'm the wife of the squadron commander," she began.

"Oh, of course," I replied.

I couldn't think of how else to reply since not only had she introduced herself to me before, but she had given me a very nice welcome gift and spent an hour or so chatting with me at a squadron event.

"I wanted to make sure you received the invitation for tomorrow's party," she continued.

"Yes, I did. And we're looking forward to it."

She went on about the party and what to bring. She asked about my kids. And after a couple of minutes she asked, "Do you know any of the other student's wives?"

"Um...no."

I was stuck now. I don't know any of the student's wives because my husband isn't a student. I had let her go on and on (she talks really fast) without correcting her and then I just didn't know how to weave my way out of it.

I finished up with, "Okay, well, thanks for calling. I'll see you tomorrow."

I figured if she was embarrassed when she realized her faux pas, it would be her own fault for not checking her information before making phone calls.

The invitation promised a kiddy pool and a sand box (not a very smart combination) so we put the kids in swim suits, brought changes of clothes, and set off to the fancy part of town with our famous pasta salad tucked under my arm.

We were the first to arrive, so we drove right by the driveway and circled the subdivision checking out the real estate for fifteen minutes. I hate to be the first to arrive.

The first family I recognized when we were crowded in the living room was one that we had known years ago. The last time I saw the wife, we both had newborn baby boys. I remember thinking at the time that someday she'd have a brat on her hands.

Sometimes you can tell, just by how a mother is with her newborn, that the baby will someday grow up and be the head of that family.

I was so right.

My husband is a very shy person. Even among his peers, he'd rather just find a place to sit with me and talk. So we headed to the backyard with the kids.

And as soon as I opened the back door, I was run over by at least a dozen children making a break for it.

Who the hell made us the day care providers? Most of the other parents didn't even stay outside to keep an eye on their kids.

When my husband went inside to get us some drinks, the commander's wife sidled over to my place on the patio. She made small talk for a moment then said, "I think we've met before, actually. I don't recognize you, but I remember your husband from the...um...."

"From the Cinco de Mayo party at the squadron," I supplied.

That's a new one for us. Since he's so quiet (and in uniform, they all look alike), people are more likely to remember meeting me.

She made more small talk and then just walked away abruptly.

When my husband came back, I told him my story. "Why would she recognize you before me, I wonder? What? Do I look so different?"

"Yes," my husband replied. "You've lost so much weight."

It's nice that he's finally learning the script. But, come on. I stared at him until we both burst out laughing.

"Come on. That was a good one. You can't make me laugh!" he said.

Soon we were joined by a younger single guy. My husband introduced us by telling me that the guy was soon leaving to go to pilot training and that he would be very missed in the squadron. That was kind of sweet, in a really macho way.

When my husband went to refill our plates, the guy made a special point to tell me that my husband had told him that I was behind all of his writing talent. "He says he'd be nothing without you," this random guy told me.

I could only reply with an, "Awwww." How many husbands would tell people that?

And is it weird that of all the people at the party, I felt the most comfortable with the young, handsome, single guy? There were cute little wives in cute little tops and shorts and cute little shoes with cute little kids all over the damn place. And I didn't feel compelled to talk to any of them.

This could be why I don't have any friends.

It's just another party in a life of hundreds of these parties. The commanders change. The places change. The faces change. But they're all the same.

And party after party I find myself and my husband sitting together on the couch or patio, talking only to those who make a point to talk to us.

And I always drive home, as the husband usually has a couple of beers.

And after the kids are tucked away or the babysitter is paid, we almost always make love.

We're in this thing together. The deployments, the long hours, the stress, the moves.

And even the parties.

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