Tuesday, June 23, 2009
I recently read an article that stated fighting was a healthy sign in a marriage. A sign that the lines of communication are open and flowing.
Obviously, the article deemed some ways of fighting healthier than others. Speaking calmly and using the phrase "I feel..." was encouraged. Body slamming your husband while 'dropping the hammer' was not.
When it comes to the big things issues in life, we're pretty much on the same page. It's just the little things. Over the last eight years we've fought over idiotic issues. Stinky trash. Unchanged air-vents. Running out of toilet paper. Sleepwalking. Mabel's baths. Noodles stuck in the sink drain. Who may or may not have cut the cheese in their sleep.
But above all, there's always been laughter in our house. Even after a fight. Sometimes during. Laughter is the magical elixir that fixes a lot of things for Matt and me. The honey-like salve that binds up little rips in our armor, fills the air with lightening-bug-like cheerfulness after the storm.
Last night was a good example.
First, let's set the scene. We were watching an idiotic commercial for skin-smoothing lotion. It showed an emaciated woman smearing lotion all over her bare stomach. Frankly, she looked far more in need of a high-calorie trip to the Sizzler than skin smoothing creme.
Me, huffy, feeling fat: "Humpfh. She looks like she's starving to death. That automatically makes me NOT want to buy that creme."
Matt, silent, eating his supper.
Me, narrowed eyes, irrational emotions flooding over me: "Don't you think she looks terrible?"
Matt, face placid and glazed as he stared intently at his food: "You're much prettier. She's definitely too skinny."
But while she might be too skinny, the fact remained that this television model was still beautiful. Far more beautiful than me in my sweat pants and pimple creme on my chin.
Me, fuming: "Whatever. You think she's hot."
Matt, protesting loudly: "No I do not."
Me: "YES YOU DO!"
Matt clinked his fork into his supper bowl as angry wrinkles clouded his forehead: "Wait just one minute. I've done everything on the checklist. I agreed with you. I said you were prettier. I looked away from the tv and concentrated on my bowl of beans. I am undeserving of your anger."
Despite my irritation, I began to snort: "What checklist?"
Matt, still miffed: "The man checklist of avoiding getting into trouble for something I didn't do."
Me, laughing harder: "Staring at a bowl of beans is on the checklist of appeasing your wife?"
Matt shrugged, relieved as he realized he was not, in fact, in trouble: "I would have stared at anything other than that skinny woman."
Me, laughing full force now, quoting Matt: "Undeserving of your anger!? Hahahaha..."
And just like that, the fight was over. My irrational behavior quieted itself as I laughed and Matt still stared at his bowl of beans rather than the tv, lest another skinny woman get him in trouble.
Laughter is a big part of fighting fair.