It made me think. I don't question how I will feel about my husband in years to come, but I would never be able to say that we've never had an arguement. Our house is crazy enough to make anyone nuts. The kids are almost always running, jumping, screaming, fighting or laughing hysterically. To tell the truth, we don't actually argue very often. I don't know if that's due to the fact that there's not enough time (or maybe energy) to fight, or if we just find it easier to "agree to disagree". Whatever the case, when we DO have an arguement, it's usually something, to say the least.
Take a couple of weekends ago for instance. I wrote about North Carolina having a "tax free weekend," encouraging people to get their back to school shopping done. Ummmmm yeah. That's not a good set up for a husband who doesn't like to shop, a wife who's looking for a bargain and wild kids who can't sit still. Add about a hundred crazed shoppers in any given aisle and you've got the perfect storm.
It all came to a head when my husband Adam and I were about a third of the way through the school supply lists. We had already pushed our way through four different stores and were completely starving, frustrated and exhausted. You could tell that we were speaking less and less to each other and getting on each other's nerves as we searched for the impossible items. One of the supply lists asked for a plastic ruler with holes in it, while another needed a wooden ruler with no holes. One needed glue sticks that were purple and dissappeared to clear, while the other wanted glue sticks that were white. The lists went on and on as we became more testy. When the list called for a roll of "paper towels" that needed to have 84 sheets and "wet wipes" that had to be an 80 count pack with aloe and vitamin E...I was officially done.
Pushing the shopping cart with a little more force than necessary, I stopped to reach for the first roll of paper towels that I could find. Adam watched me with a blank stare.
"What are you doing?! Does that roll have 84 sheets?"
Throwing the paper towels into the cart, I looked back at him, "I don't care if it has 84 sheets. It's good enough, let's go."
"Beatty, the list says the paper towels have to have 84 sheets."
"Adam...paper towels are paper towels. Look. (pulling the roll back out of the cart) LOOK! It says here that this roll has 100 sheets! Even better! Let's go."
A woman pushing her cart opposite of us lowered her head and began to snicker. I didn't know whether to laugh with her, or start screaming. Stopping the cart, I tried to take a minute to calm down. "This is not fun. WHY are these lists so impossible? I hate that we always wait until the last minute."
"Beatty, the list says 84 sheets."
"Are you KIDDING me with the 84 sheets right now? Stop being such a guy! No teacher is going to care about getting 16 extra sheets of paper towels! That doesn't even make any sense!"
"Mom? Dad? Can we go to the toy aisle?
Needless to say, Adam and I didn't speak to each other for the rest of the shopping trip and I think the kids are going to have a permanent twitch every time they come across any paper products.
I often wonder when I'm at work what my life story will be like when I'm the patient rather than the therapist. I hope that I can rest my head on a pillow with a smile on my face, remembering these days fondly with the life and love that we shared.
For the love of Pete, just don't let them hand me a paper towel.