Now, husbands and wives fight; it’s what we do.
We quarrel, bicker, contest, spat, battle, debate, argue, retort, oppose, and agitate.
We defend our positions, present new ideas, and cast our stones.
Sometimes, international decisions hang in the balance (who is ultimately responsible for Haiti’s recovery)? Other times domestic issues take precedence (is it that hard to separate the whites from the colors)?
So long as there is no physical or mental abuse, it’s completely within the guidelines of what makes a healthy marriage.
But, after a recent scrum with the wife, I needed an outlet.
Shrinks always suggest to their clients to go buy themselves something. Retail would be my medicine this day; new shoes the remedy.
But what kind of shoe? Something casual, but not lazy. Versatile, but not over done. Fun, but not quirky.
Selection made, I wore them right out of the store to break them in. I arrived home, curious to see if the wife would notice.
She looked at me, then at my new shoes and froze.
Ha! I detected a pang of jealousy. I danced my gloat dance.
She could only stare at my feet with a look of complete disbelief.
My gloat dance started to lose steam. The shoes must have sent her over the edge.
“Do you like them?” I asked. The gloat dance began anew, a few exploratory steps.
My wife left the room. What’s she so mad about? They’re only shoes!
After a moment, she walked back into the room.
On her feet were the newly purchased female version of the exact same shoes (with slightly different color scheme)!
We stared at each other’s feet.
Somewhere, O. Henry shrieked with delight.
Damn it, woman. It had to be you.
Happy Valentine’s Day!