Wife Magic

I look at Good Man, slightly panicked. “Does this mean I’m an ajumma now?”


“An ajumma? Am I an ajumma?”

He laughs, “You are so silly.”

My voice rises, “Am I an ajumma now?”

He shakes his head slowly. “Nooooo.” I raise an eyebrow and his side-to-side shake changes to an up-and-down nod. “Yes, you are ajumma now!”

I was getting sick for the whole of last week. Well, Good Man caught my cold and this weekend he was sneezing, coughing, and sniffling through life. He wanted to watch TV at the B&B but the cabinet doors were closed. The door to the veranda was open. Good Man gave me a pathetic look and whined, “문 열려, 문 닫혀.” Open the doors, close the door.

I opened the cabinet doors and closed the veranda door.

Good Man’s eyes grew large. He grinned, nodded, and yelled. “Wife magic!”

Back at home, Good Man walked in the room with the carton of orange juice I’d bought because I’d been sick. He gave it a slight shake and opened his mouth. Before he could speak I nodded, “Yes, you can drink it. Yes, all of it.”

He looked amazed. “You!— You know my thoughts! Wife magic!”

I groan and put my head on the table. “I don’t want to be an ajumma.”

“But,” Good Man smiles, “you are magic ajumma. Wife magic! I like wife magic!”