The Mouthpiece

I grew up as a shy child. I was never the kind to raise my hand in class. I liked to blend into the background. As I grew older, I was forced into becoming more vocal. I had a job where I was a liaison for a textile company and I had to make sure things ran well. That is where I honed my communication skills. When I got married, I became the spokesperson for the family. The mouthpiece. It has lasted for thirty five years. I have heard the phrase,  "Speak to my wife" a million times. Many times being the spokesperson means being the bad guy. When situations get tough, my husband hands them over to me and I mop up the mess. Yesterday there was a misunderstanding with the painter. As soon as my husband saw that it might be a problem, he called me at work. He handed the phone to the painter and said the usual "Speak to my wife" line. I informed the painter of what I understood the situation to be. He turned very meek and agreed with me. When I came home and saw the man, he looked scared of me. Sometimes I wish I could just be a trophy wife.