Since getting married last year, I like to think I’ve grown into the role of ‘husband’ rather well. It was a long road getting to matrimony, and my now-wife continues to be patient with me as I learn the in’s and out’s of my new job. Seeing as half of that job is knowing what to say and what not to say, suffice it to know that it’s been a learning process.
Some months ago we had a disagreement (what I like to call episodes where I earn her ire), and we’ve since laughed about it, so I feel somewhat free to discuss it here. As with any good disagreement of this kind, I have almost no idea what started it. But what I can say is that I didn’t help matters. The short version:
I said words about something, then she said words about that thing, after which I uttered sounds, whereupon one of us was grumpy with the other. We had plans to be at a friend’s that evening, and I was making flatbread to take with us. It’s a super simple recipe, dough gets squished, says hello to a skillet, boom – done. I think there was some lingering tension in the air, which led to some anxiety over us being punctual, and so with regards to my food prep and time management she asked, “Well, does it need to rise?”
I couldn’t help myself.
“I mean,” I half-snorted, “it is called flatbread.”
#comedylegend #foreverfunny #got’em
She gave me a look. And long story short, she was mad at me for about the next thirty-six hours. I went in to work a couple days later perplexed, and so asked my married friends. In short order, I was surrounded in a half-circle of other husbands, trying to decode where I went wrong. My friend Kopa mostly laughed, either at my misfortune or in sympathy, I could never really tell. Brad, the longest-married and most experienced of us broke it down for me like a coach reviewing a play, capping it off with a ‘better luck next time, champ’ kind of attitude. My friend Jason, though? He gave it to me straight.
“I thought it was pretty funny,” I argued.
“Oh, it was, but you called her stupid.”
“I categorically did not!”
“I get it, but yes you did. ‘It’s called flatbread, you idiot, no it doesn’t rise. How could you be such a dumb person to think that?’ That’s what she heard.”
“It was a play on words. Nothing more!”
“And it was cute, clever. But you shouldn’t have said it. In that moment, all it sounded like was, ‘Duh. It’s called flat, so no, it doesn’t rise, you dumb dummy.’
I took his wisdom to heart, went home, and apologized. We’ve been best friends ever since.
The creature Woman yet remains a mystery to me. At one moment, she stands clear as glass, transparent with her feelings and intentions. The next, she conflagrates, and stands aflame in righteous fury that is somehow your fault. Beautiful, deadly, she stands as an enigma to me, but one in whose aura I know only awe…
Anyhoo, if love stories like the above are your jam, go check out Twenty-Two Twenty-Eight Magazine and my story “Just Like Old Times” with them. It’s a cute little ditty about a love like we should all hope for. I should have more news soon too, been a busy year.
Bye now ❤
The Light of Day 