While I'm pretty transparent in my writing, I do try to protect my spouse and children from my penetrating pen, preferring to respect their privacy on some level. But tonight, my friends, you are about to be treated to a bit of inside information on...my wonderful husband, Joel. You may want to sit down for this :-)!

Joel is an all-around great guy, thank G-d, and he has a great sense of humor, which ranges from the truly witty to the hilariously funny to the downright goofy. So tonight, I was in the back of the house when I heard him come in from taking down the garbage (Told you he's a great guy!). My--er, our (if hubby's in this post, albeit unwittingly, I guess at the very least he deserves joint billing) daughter was in the kitchen and Joel comes in the house in an obviously playful, comical mood and snarls, "Where's Mommy?"

"I dunno." She has long learned to ignore our antics, bless her.

"Whadooyoomean you don't know?" he says mock-menacingly. "Where is she? Answer me right now!"

Maybe she cracked a smile, out of pure politeness. Overhearing this exchange, I'm smiling, picturing Joel's "mean face" which he, no doubt, has donned for this theatrical presentation.

But then my smile faded, hence the mournful title of this post. The fact is, there are many, many, far too many people whose spouses come in the house with menacing, snarling, angry tones. And they are not joking. And the husband or wife who is the target of this chilling wrath is in the back of the house, shrinking tinier and tinier into a horrible existence where every moment explodes with tension and the weather is forever cloudy and gray. The stress must be unbearable. I know people who live with this. My heart breaks for them. Does yours?

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