Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Don't you think it would be incredibly convenient if our spouses read our minds? It would save so much trouble and pretense.
Wife: "Hi, hun, how was your day?" I had an awful one, and I'm dying to vent to you.
Husband: "Just great." Can you wait five minutes? I gotta pee.
Wife: "Good to hear." Be fast. Then offer to make dinner, please, or I will die.
Of course, sheer honesty would eliminate the need for this, but then there's the whole issue of 'A Gift I Ask For is No Gift at All.'
Sometimes I don't want to ASK My Man to do the dishes. I want him to just KNOW.
If he does it without my actually asking him, he's doing it because he wants to - not because I asked him. And that creates all kinds of warm, lovey-dovey feelings. But if I have to verbalize my indubitable desires, it creates all kinds of feelings of guilt and bad-wife-ship and nag-meister-ness and general laziness. It's like Tuesday night.
That Girl: "Hun, how much homework do you have?"
My Man: "Not too bad. Why?"
TG: I could really - REALLY - go for some Coldstone right now. Pretty please? (internally feeling soooo bad for asking him....)
MM: No problem, love of my life. Let me just finish this real quick.
(We end up talking for an hour and suddenly it's a quarter to ten and Coldstone is about to close.)
MM: Shoot! I better get going.
TG: Oh, no, hun, it's so late and I'm a bad person from keeping you from your homework this long. Please, please, please still get it. I want it. Bad. Please.
MM: Don't be silly. What kind do you want.
TG: I'm not telling. Don't go. It's too late. Do your homework. I'm serious. I changed my mind anyway. Don't go. Of course I still want it. Please go. Cheesecake with raspberries and brownies.
MM: *kiss* I'll be back.
Lucky for me when it comes to Coldstone runs, he's very good at reading my mind.
But this is not always so. I wonder if many marital problems are due to the simple fact that we are not psychic.
Think about it. Any romantic novel I have ever read (which, I grant you, isn't that many) includes a couple that love each other so much and know each other so well that there is really no point in conversing at all. The heroine saw that look in his eye and KNEW. The hero glanced at the way she held her shoulders and he KNEW.
I once tested My Poor Man. It was a good two years ago. We were cleaning up dinner, and he used a rag to wipe up some spilled somethingorother. Then he chucked it toward the kitchen island, missed, and it ended up on the floor. I teased him about getting it later, and he responded in kind.
The rag stayed there for three weeks.
I swept around it in the ensuing days. I seethed every time I looked at it. Merely walking into the kitchen mad me madder than Mr. Squishy getting his diaper changed.
Shouldn't My Man just KNOW that HE was supposed to pick it up?!
After three weeks, I came to the realization that he was indeed NOT trying to drive me crazy. Quite honestly, he had completely forgotten about it. And he really didn't know that he was utterly failing in a job description he did not apply for.
I threw the rag away. And then laughed myself silly.
Whenever we test our companions, we only set them up for failure, and ourselves for anger. Every time.
(...Have you ever done it?)