It was sometime in my late 30's when people ceased to rib N that he had robbed the cradle when he married me. I had learned to laugh it off and quit calculating how old he would be when I was ??. Then he set the date he planned to retire.
When he first began to count off the work days he had left, I repeatedly and loudly proclaimed that I'd be working until I was 70. N humored me, until one day (shortly after he retired) he asked if I'd thought about how old he'll be when I'm 70. {sound of breaking glass} Oh, well then, that might be a hindrance to the number of years we can be active together.
Part of my reasoning for wanting to work longer was to keep my brain active, because (for me) that's what work does: Troubleshooting problems, educating and negotiating with small people, creating papers/ideas for lessons, organizing, being a sounding board, etc. And then I'm hit with the realization I've been selfish, despite my semi-valid concerns.
On the positive side, this school year, I've learned having a retired spouse does have its upside--I'm able to come home and chill while N makes dinner. Which wouldn't happen without adjusting my attitude. So far I've done well with keeping my critiques to myself, unless asked. I have a good thing going. Why oh why would I want to ruin it by telling him he's not shopping or cooking the way I would? I may still be younger than N, but I'm not stupid.
