You Should Be Writing...And My Husband's Big Mouth

So at last blog entry, I had put perfection aside and actually submitted an essay for a contest. No, I didn’t win, BUT I did get an Honorable Mention. So maybe everyone who entered also received this honorable mention, I don’t know. But it was invigorating. And in a moment of excitement and weakness, I actually told my husband about it. That is a really big deal for me because when it comes to my writing, I guard it like a Rottweiler at a junk yard. I don’t share my writing with anyone, don’t ask for others opinions and basically hide it in my pocket (because it’s very very small…you know the song). So having told dear husband, he gave me a high five and asked if he could read it. Of course, I said no. And with that he left it alone. Good husband.
 

That was a few weeks ago and I hadn’t really given it any more thought. This past weekend, after feeling the heat of guilt from the parental units about how much they miss us all, we decided to go for a quick visit to see the mom and dad. Yes the same dad who a couple of months ago decided to tell me “You should be writing.” The same dad who for probably 10 years prior hadn’t given me one single piece of advice or opinion on what I should be doing with my life. This is also the same dad who pointed me in the right direction (not that I needed it of course) and then didn’t bring it back up again.
 

One of my favorite things about my family is that we can sit around talking for hours. And that is exactly what we were doing late this past Saturday night when out of nowhere my dad asks me, “So have you been writing anything?” Hunh? Are you talking me me? Oh Shit! It would have been so easy to say no, but I swear there’s a little light between my eyes that blinks red when I lie to my dad and I knew it would start blinking fast if I made up something. It is my dad after all and I’m not supposed to anyone, but certainly I can’t lie to him (He’s a pastor for crying out loud!). I HAVE been writing but I sure as heck couldn’t tell him that.
 

So I shrugged a little and was going to white lie my way through it when my husband pipes up, “Tell him what you’ve been doing. Tell him about the contest you entered.” My dad whipped his head around to get the answers he wanted from the person who had no business answering the question. Bad husband! I thought my eyes were going to envelope my forehead they got so big. I put on my meanest angry eyes and gave my husband the biggest eat shit look I could muster. Then I promptly wiped it off my face when my dad looked back at me to follow up on my big mouth husband’s generous offering of non-required information.
 

The only answer I provided was that I’d been blogging some and that ended the topic of MY writing because I spent the next few minutes trying to explain to him what a blog is. This is the man who still can’t quite figure out cut and paste and I’m trying to tell him what a blog is. Are you kidding me? So I was off the hook as we moved on to other topics. I exerted tons of thought energy steering the conversation anywhere but towards me.
 

Now I know that some may think I should share with him. He is after all my father, right? But I just can’t do that yet. First of all, my confidence is shaky at best. Secondly, sometimes I write about some dark parts of my life that I certainly don’t want my dad to know about. When the time comes, I’ll share more with him. I’ll tell him all about his influence on what I’m doing and maybe even let him read a few things. But for now, I’m keeping things to myself, telling my husband to keep his big mouth closed on the subject and working towards something I can be proud of first.