Dear Mrs. Hax

Mrs. Hax is on sabbatical today, so the Washington Post has reached out and just touched it for me that’s all I need and they asked if I could handle today’s advice column.

Dear Mrs. Hax: My husband just asked what I thought if he volunteered to go on an international week-long work trip. We have a toddler and I stay at home, so it would be a long week for me but nothing I couldn’t handle.

I was more hurt by the reason he wanted to go. He thought it would be fun and a good opportunity for a free trip. His going is not essential to his company, and I’m not seeing a great professional benefit to the trip. He’d basically be helping out when several other people at his company could do the same thing.

Am I wrong to see this as a whim he wants to indulge? I believe we both have a right to be selfish at times in a marriage and I could support other trips that seemed more beneficial to his career or hobby-related, but it’s hurtful to think he wants to go just because it will be fun and like a free vacation when his idea of fun and vacation apparently doesn’t include his wife and child.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/carolyn-hax-tripped-up-by-hubbys-decision-to-take-a-work-jaunt/2015/09/20/14ee742a-5cbb-11e5-8e9e-dce8a2a2a679_story.html

Your husband is gay. You know that, right? I’ve seen this many times. They’re a veritable plague on sane people everywhere. What closeted homosexuals with wives will do is they’ll have to go on a “business trip” together or they’ll have to overnight somewhere so they can pick up that load of freight that got drop-shipped to the wrong warehouse, and while they’re there they’re screwing each other. They’re showering together and cuddling and sharing their secrets with one another. And you’re not included. You’re just the shrew in this drama. You don’t like football, you’re always buying shoes, and you just don’t understand his need to behold a proud, strong penis now and again.

Your husband is going on his Brokeback Mountain excursion. What he does is he’ll find a good-looking guy and ask if he wants to go “camping” with him. My answer has always, and will always, be ‘no.’ Because your husband will then feign ignorance of his new boyfriend’s name should his imaginary boyfriend later accidentally presume to speak to your delightful husband on the street. Mm hm: I’m guessing that being in your husband’s presence is like accidentally being on LSD. It’s like if you’re at a club and things are getting weird and you don’t know what’s real and you wonder if maybe someone slipped something in your drink. Your husband transmits interference waves so that no one in his vicinity will know what is real. Including his secret boyfriend. It’s your husband’s cloaking device. Up is down. Left is right. The sky isn’t blue, it’s green. Your husband is a one-man insane asylum. I can only imagine what it’s like for you to have your own backstage pass to every dark recess of his mind. What’s it like living with him?

Your job here is to make babies and get trotted out now and again. Know your place, dummy. Don’t blame me; you’re the one who married the closet case. Enjoy the kookery.

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I am America’s Senior Comedian. Thank you for your kind attention in this matter.

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