Number 1

About a month ago, there was an article in the Chicago Tribune about relationships and commitments. I felt it was important enough to cut out and discuss with my kids along with other people who expect certain things of their mates.

One of the things that stayed with me was it said that in a good relationship, you should be #1. I agree totally.

I mentioned this article to my hair stylist, Dan. He has been cutting my hair for about 19 years, so we have seen a lot of life between the two of us. He is married to a physician and they have three children under the age of ten - so it's a busy family and busy life.

I specifically said that in a relationship, each person should be #1 to his or her partner.

Dan scoffed and said, "That's not how it is at my house."

I had to gulp down a giggle, as this is exactly what my husband says: he says he is about 5th, following first the dog, then the kids, then my kitchen, then the cats and finally him.

Dan went on to say when his wife goes out with her girlfriends, she has 'the time of her life' and comes back laughing and talking about the evening. "When WE go out, and to a relatively nice place for dinner, say, she says 'oh, yeah, that was fun' definitely lacking the euphoria I see when she is out with the girls. Why is this?"

That is the big question. My friend Gail and I have tried to figure this out as well. We love our husbands, really, we know they are great guys and we know WE are number 1. It's as Gail says: "What guy wouldn't want his wife to go away with the girls? It's therapy and she is so much happier having spent time with her friends."

I still was laughing guiltily as Dan was cutting (chopping) my hair. He feels that he should understand this phenomenon since he is a hair stylist. I don't think it has anything to do with how much exposure a man has to women. It's definitely a Venus-Mars thing - not to be understood, just experienced.

I have to go - I am researching girly get-aways for a summer weekend......

The weather

My husband loves to follow the weather on the internet. He takes particular joy is seeing the green mass (rain or precipitation is it?) blobbing across the map. He calls me in his office to watch it.

"I'll check Accuweather," he says when I tell him I am walking uptown with my friend to Farmer's Market.

"You don't really have to," I say sweetly. "I am going anyway. It looks like it might rain, I'll just take an umbrella."

"Wait a sec...c'mon in here and take a look at the doppler."

"I don't really want to look at it - I'm fine," I say a little less sweetly.

I figure if you want to know what the weather is, just step outside. Do I need a jacket? Gloves? Hat? Umbrella? It's not that difficult to figure out.

In recent conversations, I have discovered this may be a Venus-Mars thing. The women I have talked with cannot make out a thing on that map - other than green and blue going across in waves - and furthermore, it appears that we don't really care.

When I walk the dog in the morning, I usually see the same people, the same dogs and it is basically the same exchange - about the weather. I wonder if it is going to snow, I remark to my neighbor (male).

He says, "The snow is in Joliet right now - I checked the doppler."

Here's how I check the weather: we have a digital thermometer in our room with the outside temperature gauge. It's wonderful - I love it. If it is 20 or below, I wear my long underwear to walk the dog - if it is 21 or above, I don't. That's all I need to know.

Daughters keep you humble

The other night my daughter and I were standing together under a bright overhead light. She looked at me in horror.

"Mom, you have a VERY long chin hair."

"Oh, you're kidding - where?" as I was feeling desperately on my chin, trying to pull something out.

"Forget it, you won't get it."

There are not many people in the world who can tell you that you have a chin hair - so I consider myself lucky to have a daughter who can help me look my best at all times.

Just think about the freedom this gives me - I don't have to worry about going out in public looking frumpy, my hair looking like a helmet or having bad breath - or having a chin hair.

As has been my wish for many years, I hope I live long enough for my daughter to have a daughter just like mine. And hey - in the words of Janette Barber, "I refuse to think of them as chin hair. I think of them as stray eyebrows."

not buying China

I have made a concerted effort to avoid buying products, food, anything made in China. Granted, it is difficult, as so much is manufactured there. Sometimes it is unavoidable.

I love Dansko shoes. I bought a new sytle at Nordstrom this year. When I got home, I looked at the sole and thought it looked different - i.e., cheap - than my old Danskos. I looked for the place of manufacture and finally found it on the inside of the top of the shoe - took some searching to find it!

Yup, made in China. I promptly returned them to Nordstrom, stating my reason for return - not that the 20-something clerk cared. I bought a pair of Naot instead after determining that they manufacture in Israel.

Recently while in Whitewater, WI, my friend and I visited Dale's Bootery in downtown Whitewater. There were some sale shoes on a rack, and I found brown Danskos - made in Poland and marked down! Shoe heaven. The proprietor indicated that Dansko was having problems with the manufacture of the soles and according to him, a store in Milwaukee took a bath on returns due to faulty soles - why change? And incidentally, the China-made shoes are just as expensive as the ones made in Poland and Italy.