The nothing box

It's a real thing, the "nothing box". I don't have one, but Josh does. It's that place that men go when they get that blank stare on their faces. The one that they escape to when you start to tell them things that they need to do around the house. Or anytime there's sporting event on TV. Or there's a toddler running around saying, "I have poop!". I despise the nothing box. At the same time, I'm insanely jealous of it. I wish I had one. What would it feel like to sit on the couch and watch tv without thinking about the messy kitchen, the crying baby, the dinner that needs to be cooked, the bills that need to be paid.....

We went to a marriage conference in January called "Laugh your way to a better marriage". The presenter was a man named Mark Gungor, and he is hilarious. He's the one who brought the nothing box to my attention. All this time, I thought that Josh was ignoring me on purpose, but really he was lost inside his nothing box. Hmmm....interesting. It doesn't make it any less irritating when I have to tell him things 4 times before he hears me, but it is nice to know that most men have this irritating habit. Now, before I tell him something important, I make it a point to ask him to kindly exit his nothing box before I start talking. It has helped our communication immensely.

On a couple of occasions, I've tried to pretend that I have a nothing box. The problem is that my box doesn't work right. It doesn't block out sounds, sights, or guilt. My box has transparent sides, no sound barrier, and the guilt comes in with me. Maybe one day, when the kids are in school and I have enough money for a maid and a cook, THEN I will have a working nothing box. Until then I guess I'll concentrate on inventing a lock to keep Josh out of his!