Things My Wife Complains About: #17 Spending an Entire Day in the City Doing Everything She Wants to Do

If you're not currently pregnant or haven't been pregnant in the immediate past, you've never heard of a "babymoon." A "babymoon" is a way to spend money on yourself, instead of the child growing inside of you, which seems sensible if you're receiving weekly emails telling you what vegetable your fetus is the size of (current size: maize). In lieu of traveling somewhere exotic with someone who let her passport expire, hates flying, is uncomfortable everywhere, and doesn't like the way she looks in anything but a Snuggie, I decided we might take advantage of the things she's long wanted to do in New York but hasn't done because those things are boring.

We started by going for soup dumplings. My wife didn't complain about the soup dumplings unless expressing frustration that the soup dumplings weren't on the menu and wondering why I'd take her somewhere for soup dumplings that doesn't have soup dumplings sounds like a complaint (note: the people next to us were loudly and obviously eating soup dumplings). Next we made it through nearly twenty yards of Central Park before my wife complained that she was tired--a reasonable claim for someone in her advanced state--so we did what anyone tired does and took several hundred photos of her belly in front of bushes.

After Central Park, we went to the American Museum of Natural History, which I will confess is not boring, if only for the floating blue whale the size of a rocket ship and Brontosaurus in disguise. Unfortunately, my wife turned into the little-understood Pregosaurus halfway through the museum. The Pregosaurus, I learned, is low to the ground and slow moving. It is unpredictable, omnivorous, and has to sit in Starbucks between feedings to complain about its feet.

Pregosaurus and Allosaurus
For the evening portion of the "Babymoon," we took in the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, sponsored by every corporation in the United States. This is the narrative arc of the RCCS for the uninitiated: Santa invents reasons for forty white women to kick their legs in the air for an hour (rising tension), some kid suddenly and unconvincingly discovers the True Meaning of Christmas (climax), Jesus--unmentioned to that point--is born in front of live camels (denouement). Before any of this happened, my wife went to the restroom. When she came out, she said, I can't tell you how many things I have to complain about in there.

Possible Solutions!

1) Turn the "Babymoon" into a "Maybemoon," in which we discuss all the things we might do; ultimately, do nothing
2) Preemptively complain about crazy things (could this sunset BE more orange?) and see how wife responds
3) Invent "Husbandmoon," which takes place in Florida during Spring Training and is greeted enthusiastically by a lack of complaints (hard)