Blow Off
While in San Diego, I realized that Jason and I had learned a valuable marital skill. Somewhere along this road of marriage, we have learned how to blow each other off. I know that doesn’t sound very romantic, but it’s important, nonetheless.
After four years of marriage, and two prior years of dating, I am now aware of two key time periods to blow off Jason. The first is in the morning, before he has his coffee. I can’t take anything that he says personally during this time. He is a class A grouch. “Stupid cat hair all over my clothes and it’s all your fault!” “Where are my keys? You’ve hidden my keys!” “(Grumble grumble grumble).” Thankfully, he is an early bird, and I am a late sleeper, so I rarely have to deal with him in the mornings.
Another blow-off time is when Jason is hungry. Especially when we are driving and aren’t sure where to stop and eat. The way to counteract a crabby hungry Jason is to just smile sweetly and say in a soothing manner, “Let’s get some food in your tummy.” Also, the hungrier he gets, and the crabbier he gets, the less able he is to make a restaurant decision. Not only do I need to keep smiling and soothing, but I have to be the one to say, “Stop at that taco stand right there.” Otherwise, he will just keep driving and grumbling.
I’m not sure of the exact incidences of when I get the blow-off from Jason, but I’m fairly sure that he’s gotten a lot of practice since I’ve been pregnant. Man, I’ve been a bitch. I guess it’s the hormones, but I have little patience right now. “Stop touching me!” That was a big one on our flight home. I was in the worst mood and everyone, including him, was in my personal space. At one airport, he finally just got up and moved across the room to watch “Run Lola Run” on his laptop. And on the airplane, I told him to get his stinkin' appendages out of my chair area. "I paid for this seat!" I also insisted that he only take up half the armrest. "I paid for half of that armrest!" (Never mind that we are married and his money is my money.)
You watch these romantic movies where the guy and girl can’t get enough of each other and hang on the other’s every word. The guy lightly caresses the girl’s face tenderly and vows to always be there for her. What you don’t get to see is three years down the road, when the sweetest, kindest thing that they can do for each other sometimes is to simply smile and leave the room for a few hours.
After four years of marriage, and two prior years of dating, I am now aware of two key time periods to blow off Jason. The first is in the morning, before he has his coffee. I can’t take anything that he says personally during this time. He is a class A grouch. “Stupid cat hair all over my clothes and it’s all your fault!” “Where are my keys? You’ve hidden my keys!” “(Grumble grumble grumble).” Thankfully, he is an early bird, and I am a late sleeper, so I rarely have to deal with him in the mornings.
Another blow-off time is when Jason is hungry. Especially when we are driving and aren’t sure where to stop and eat. The way to counteract a crabby hungry Jason is to just smile sweetly and say in a soothing manner, “Let’s get some food in your tummy.” Also, the hungrier he gets, and the crabbier he gets, the less able he is to make a restaurant decision. Not only do I need to keep smiling and soothing, but I have to be the one to say, “Stop at that taco stand right there.” Otherwise, he will just keep driving and grumbling.
I’m not sure of the exact incidences of when I get the blow-off from Jason, but I’m fairly sure that he’s gotten a lot of practice since I’ve been pregnant. Man, I’ve been a bitch. I guess it’s the hormones, but I have little patience right now. “Stop touching me!” That was a big one on our flight home. I was in the worst mood and everyone, including him, was in my personal space. At one airport, he finally just got up and moved across the room to watch “Run Lola Run” on his laptop. And on the airplane, I told him to get his stinkin' appendages out of my chair area. "I paid for this seat!" I also insisted that he only take up half the armrest. "I paid for half of that armrest!" (Never mind that we are married and his money is my money.)
You watch these romantic movies where the guy and girl can’t get enough of each other and hang on the other’s every word. The guy lightly caresses the girl’s face tenderly and vows to always be there for her. What you don’t get to see is three years down the road, when the sweetest, kindest thing that they can do for each other sometimes is to simply smile and leave the room for a few hours.
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