My wife is obsessed with my every move. She accosts me around the house like the paparazzi, barking out mundane questions.

“So you’re putting sugar in your coffee today?”

It’s a snippet from Us Weekly’s “Stars They’re Just Like Us”: they put sugar in their coffee!

At home, I get all the lifestyle challenges of fame without the money that should come with it.

This need to understand every fiber of what I’m doing drives my wife’s desire to keep tabs on me, even when I’m home!

She has a favorite “keeping tabs” question.

The question is irrational, accusatory, invasive, and laced with that Totalitarian: “state your business!”

This question is a favorite of my wife’s. It comes out when I stand up from the couch, or when I’m walking out of a room:

“Where are you going?”

The answer is usually underwhelming:

“Um…to get a snack from the kitchen?”

If I step outside or leave the property altogether, I’ll let my wife know. Do I need to notify her when I’m moving around within the home?

I polled my high school buddy thread with this question, and apparently, it is a common phenomenon. Some responses:

“I’m not allowed to go upstairs to get in bed to read without announcing my intentions.”

“Most of my movements need to be announced beforehand.”

Recently, my wife caught me on the steps.

“Where are you going?”

“Upstairs?”

The sheer frequency of the question can only mean that I’m living under a totalitarian dictatorship. 

Sometimes, I’m unsure where I’m going as I stroll through the house, often with an empty mind.

In this case, “where are you going” actually stresses me out.

I need to come up with an answer—anything, because “nowhere” or “wherever the wind may take me” won’t cut it.

What does she expect? How can such a question deserve an exciting answer? She’s not asking me, “where would you like to go?” My answer might be Greece or Yosemite National Park.

These are much more interesting answers than “to look for my keys,” or “to find a blanket,” or “maybe upstairs, maybe downstairs—wherever…”

Maybe next time I stand up from the couch or leave the bed, I’ll weigh a more glamorous answer against the truth.

“Where are you going?”

“To look for my sunflower seeds.”

Nah. I’ll try something like: “oh, I’m about to hop a plane to head to Jackson Hole for some skiing.”