Several years ago I felt it my duty as a civic minded young matron to be actively involved in many different groups. Like lots of women, I had my hands full with a zillion volunteer activities, but I kept at it and continued to meet myself coming around corners. The busier I was, the better I liked it.

Needless to say, tending to my boisterous battalion of four children and performing church and civic duties took up so much time that some things had to be neglected. The victims were my housekeeping and my husband--and not always in that order.

There's an old saying: "We judge others by what they do, but we judge ourselves by what we're GOING to do." In my situation, this meant I couldn't tolerate lazy folks who didn't take care of responsibilities, but even though there were aspects of my life that needed to shape up I didn't fault myself. After all, at some point I was going to clean the house top to bottom and give my husband a little extra attention as well. There would be time . . . later.

Thank goodness, I'm blessed with a patient husband. He understands me. He's a wise man. He knows how to communicate with his spouse. Here's the perfect "For Example."

For weeks the hub had been asking me to purchase razor blades for him when next I dashed through a grocery or drug store. Weeks, you understand. A long time. One would think after weeks of requests from such a good man this simple plea would be satisfied, but no. I couldn't remember to get those razor blades to save my life.

"Honey, did you get my razor blades when you bought groceries yesterday?"

"Oops! No. Sorry. I'm writing it down, sweets. I'll pick them up today, I promise."

Ahhh. Another empty promise. I don't know why he didn't give up and get the razor blades himself. I think it finally became a "waiting-her-out" game. Will she or won't she remember?

In the meantime, as I continued to run from the children's ballgames and Scout meetings and PTA events to my Junior Auxiliary meetings and church committees and arts council projects, his poor face was getting rawer and rawer. One morning, he decided he'd try something new.

"Honey," he called to me from the bathroom.

"Yeah?"

"My dear, lovely wife," he said, slowly and deliberately, "the Junior Auxiliary needs SIX PACKS OF RAZOR BLADES. Could you take care of that?"

Yep, he got his razor blades that very day.

BIO: Beth Boswell Jacks, a syndicated humor/personal essay columnist, is a full member of the SCBWI and has published poems and stories in over a dozen magazines and literary journals. She may be reached at bethjacks@hotmail.com. Or if you would just like to see some more of her writing, take a stroll down to USADeepSouth.com.