Thursday, September 6, 2007
I love my husband more than anything. But that man can infuriate me like no other. After a night of self-imposed silence, I wake up tired, hurt and frustrated. All because he didn't call!
Dinner is always on the table when he gets home from work. He's worked a long hard day so I make sure that there is a nice dinner waiting for him. I agonize over it as mentioned in a previous tirade. Yesterday when he's a half an hour late, I call him on his cell. Was he still working? NO. He stopped at our best friends' on the way home. Granted he does pass their house on the way. And he and his best friend (Bill) do work together. And Bill has this week off so that he can put new cabinets in their kitchen. So was it a big deal that he stopped there on the way home? No. Was it a big deal because he didn't tell me that he would be late, YES! And yes, he apologized but this isn't the first time he's done this. So do I accept that apology, not really. This is a age-old problem that every wife (or dinner-maker) has faced. I know that I'm not special. But MAN - does that irritate me.
So this morning, I go about my normal routine. I get up when the alarm goes off. I come downstairs and get his lunch ready. I pour him a cup of coffee in his travel mug. And I kiss him good-bye at the door. I return the "I love you." And I go back to reading about the death of Luciano Pavarotti (sigh), sulking. Feeling more sorry for myself than I should.
So I decide to text message him. I'm not quite ready to speak yet but I have to get over it. I send him this long text message (and anyone who has ever done that knows it takes forever.) And I end it with: We're good. But you owe me. I tell him that I still love him even when he's an ass. And the reply I get from him is one of the reasons why I love him. It's a picture of some cartoon-looking thing blowing me a big kiss. "I love you" written below. Now how do you stay mad when this cute little character is giving you a big "MUAH" telling you he loves you?
It's hard for me to remember that he's not a woman and just doesn't always think the way I do. How does the saying go? Women are from Venus and men are from Mars? Or some junk like that? I remember Henry Higgins lamenting about why women can't be more like men, in My Fair Lady. Why can't men be more like women?