Last night, I had mowed the rest of the lawn (called on account of a freak thunderstorm on Sunday) and worked out, showered and gotten all ready to sit down and write. I was feeling it too, really motivated. Got out ye olde laptop, sat down on the couch, and that’s when Ash got home from mountain biking. Laptop down, made him a sandwich because he was beat. Granted, it was 100 degrees out there and the boys DID bike for almost three entire hours. He handed me his Under Armour – soaked through with sweat – and went to get cleaned up. Sigh. Laundry started, sandwich on the table, he turned on Jon and Kate plus 8 (UGH, I refuse to watch that anymore) and I tried to start writing.
“Just some fiction”, I replied. Which was true.
“Can I read it?”
Only slightly crushed, Ash went back to watching TV but began commenting on everything he changed it to: NBA Finals sucked, What happened to TLC’s programming?!?, All new 16 And Pregnant!, Three months of no sports now… And that is when I closed the laptop and went into my room to read. There are very few times anymore when I am that pumped up to write, when I am in the groove. And I could clearly see that it was not going to happen.
But this is a sacrifice I make.
And I was thinking this weekend, as we were moving the TV out from the wall to install a new cable, that as a spouse, you “allow” a lot of things. You are understanding about certain things because it helps keep the house balanced and harmonious. Another example is that of the Ugly Asian Statues.
Do you see them on top of our television? I really do not like them. I’m not into that type of art really, but the thing that bugs me about them is their height and placement. They’re meant for side tables or something but not where we have them, which is the only place to have them. And Ash would have it no other way. They were his mother’s. Even though they bug the hell out of me and sometimes get wobbly and threaten to go crashing to the floor if you so much as breathe near them, I allow and accept them.
I suppose in some ways, Ash must do the same with me. Though I can’t think of anything that may annoy him that much. Admittedly, though I keep our house really neat and clean at almost all times, I have one downfall, one hidden “Monica closet” (if you get that, high fives!). On the side of my bed, where you cannot see from the door, I tend to pile clothes. Usually it’s a shirt I intend to wear again or some shorts that are clearly not dirty. But it can get out of control. And sometimes he mentions it in passing. This is the balance.
I guess I kind of like feeling that we both have exceptions to rules and forgive each other for these minor infractions, annoying though they may be. Just like karma, what goes around comes around. It pays to allow these things for it always comes back to you. I get to go to a Pampered Chef party in two weeks when Ash would normally be playing Magic.
Do you have an item in your house that you can’t stand and/or a specific behaviour of your significant other that bugs the hell out of you? Please, do tell.