Here’s how arguments begin in my house, at least this particular one.
We wake up at 7:00 am. As you know, we are trying to sell our house and today, while we both are working, a realtor will walk a prospective buyer through the house.
We both make the bed- K adds a few extravagant folds for additional flair. I go downstairs and make oatmeal. K- doesn’t eat breakfast and usually gets herself ready for work upstairs while I eat and play backgammon on my little black Mac also know as Sexual Chocolate. I don't realize that all the conditions are right for a storm. It’s 7:30 AM, I’m still a little sleepy and I’m not paying attention. I hear Kelly moving around upstairs, but I pay her no mind- we are both in our morning rituals. Had I been paying attention I would realize that usually I cannot hear her in the morning- suggesting that she might be making loud banging noises for a reason. Hmmmmm. I notice nothing amiss other than I wonder if the backgammon game is somehow rigged- I seem to roll double six’s every time I’m unable to use them. Kelly comes downstairs.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“What ’s this?” I think to myself, she knows perfectly well what I’m doing. I think quickly…. there is a situation here…something… not… right. I quickly review all the answers I can possibly give to this question.
“Nothing” I respond. Mayday, Mayday, man down.
“Nothing?” She asks eyes wide, a shocked look upon her face
“Yea, nothing just eating a little oatmeal and playing backgammon.”
“You mean to tell me that for the past 40 minutes while I’ve been cleaning you’ve been playing video games?”
“Well…I don't think you can consider backgammon a video game and I think we made the bed 20 minutes ago- there’s no way it been 40 minutes.” (NOTE TO SELF: no need to correct her when she’s at this place). Besides, I didn’t realize you were cleaning?"
“You didn’t realize I was cleaning?” She asks, totally ignoring the facts I've laid out for her.
I begin to notice that she is repeating everything I say but puts a question mark at the end. At this point the morning can be salvaged. An apology on my part, a quick wiping of a counter and we can kiss and go to work. That would be the smart response. Obviously that isn’t going to happen.
“If you wanted help all you had to do was ask…don’t be such a victim” (I believe in getting right to the name calling) “how should I know you were cleaning, I thought you were getting dressed”
“FOR 45 MINUTES!? She screamed- (hence the all caps)
“NO, FOR 20 MINUTES BUT 45 MINUTES ISN’T OUT OF THE QUESTION NOW IS IT?”
We yell some more- at some point someone, (usually her) says …"I don’t know how this Paris thing is going to work if you act like a 12 year old."
As if to prove her 12 year old comment I say something like, "Well maybe if you didn’t search so hard for things to complain about we would have these arguments.”
“Well maybe if someone helped around the house.”
“Well maybe if someone didn’t keep score as to who cleans what and if you are going to keep score try to score it correctly….”
I go to work pissed off, she goes to work pissed off and the day begins.
How could I make this situation worse? By blogging about it to complete strangers.