I think she said, and I quote, “That is the hippiest, eternally un-cool, whitest, most annoying thing I could ever possibly imagine.” She said it matter of fact, with tangible disgust.
We were having a pre-holiday discussion where spouses communicate expectations in hopes that neither would be disappointed. I have been told that the secret to happiness is lowered expectations, which is extra true at Christmas, but I have also learned that the best way to get what you want, is to ask.
So I said “bongos”.
At first she just sort of shot me a look like, “Stop playing around we are trying to get stuff done here,” to which I responded by restating my seriousness. That is when she said that original quote, followed by this threat, “If you buy yourself bongos I am not sure I can respect, (which may be inevitable) or find you attractive, ever again.”
There lives a bro deep down inside me that finds threats funny, but less deep inside me is a middle aged father, and when a Dad thinks things are funny he posts them on Facebook. So I posted my Christmas wish online with the caption that my wife had threatened me.
I chuckled to myself, she did not, but this happens daily so we both went on with our lives.
Yesterday morning as we were wading through the stacks of poorly labeled boxes the Missus started in on a giant Amazon box till she found a note that said “Because you have been such a good boy- Santa.” This indicated the gift was for me, not her, but the mystery of Santa’s identity inspired her to continue the unboxing. As soon as I saw the brand name on the black padded bag I knew what it was and started snickering. She was less familiar but looking at me chuckle made her nervous and suspicious.
Then disgusted.
I am not sure I have really disgusted her before, no, that’s not true, but this time wasn’t scent related, rather it was a deep repulsion from me as a person. As I watched my wife mentally planning her future as a single mother, I saw a much smaller box with no listed sender and quickly instructed a child to hand it to her mother.
The smaller gift was indeed addressed to her and contained…
a multi-pack of earplugs.
I will not lie and say she smiled, but there was a smirk.
It was the look of someone stung by defeat yet beaten in such style that they had no choice but give a nod of respect to the victor. ‘Twas a mysterious victor- truly not me. I did not collude, I simply put it out there online.
I am proud to have lived my life in such a way that I know the sort of people who, despite thousands of miles of distance, and nearly a decade gap in real communication, will re-emerge with panache’ when an opportunity to troll my wife is revealed. How could anyone be mad at that?
It has been less than 24 hours and both gifts are already well used.
Over time I have also met people who don’t share my parents or who haven’t married my siblings.
Most of these people have never pinched me, called me annoying, tattled on me, or tried to burn my bridge. Those things are left to family. Yet we still love our family.
Love is not finite. Yes, there are limitations on time, resources, energy, all those things, but there is something about human affection that grows beyond those bounds. It can endure injury, increase in capacity, and stretch across boundaries. Love does not need to be held in reserve. We are capable of more
I am and will be, a firm believer in friends and friendships. I will stay your friend. Even if I feel at the moment that I don’t really like you, that your politics are the worst, you owe me money, and you talk trash about my sister, we can get past it. We can endure.
Brohammas 