What Is The Most Annoying Thing About Your Significant Other?
I was married by a judge. I should have asked for a jury.
We celebrated our ten year wedding anniversary just before Christmas. We had spent the weeks prior saying “I can’t believe it’s been 10 years” with varying degrees of joy and rue. Ten years. Ten looong years. We’ve decided to give it one more and see how things go.
I don’t know how long Dustin has been married, or how long it’s been since he had a full night’s sleep, but this weekend’s comment diversion suggestion comes from him: What really annoys you about your significant other?
Long term relationships are an intimate endeavour and, unlike our family, we choose this person, and I think I chose well. Make no mistake, Mr. Julien annoys the heck out of me sometimes, but it’s standard marital annoyance: watching him painstakingly adjust the room lighting and minimizing reflective surfaces in anticipation of watching, dear God, you can’t be serious, yet another Smallville repeat (I think in this one there’s eucalyptus Kryptonite so all the women wear leather, act slutty, and then forget everything in the last segment); incidents of Male Refrigerator Blindness; or asking me where things are that he hasn’t actually looked for himself yet. I’m loyal, he’s still my sweetie, and don’t really feel like disparaging him in writing; however, I spent several years with my first boyfriend and, as I have no desire or plan to ever see him again, I’m going to disparage him instead:
Do you know someone like this?
You: Could you please buy some milk today?
Someone Like This: I’ll try.
You’ll try? You’ll TRY? What the fu*k is that, “I’ll try?”! I’m just asking you to buy milk, what do you think will happen if you forget? The Anschluss? He couldn’t just say “Yes, I’ll do it”, he had to build in plausible irresponsibility. The other thing I remember is this:
Him: What’s for dinner?
I was planning to make our dinner, I always made our dinner, and I was probably getting ready to start our dinner, but don’t just ASSUME that I am making YOUR dinner. I answered the same way every single time:
Me: I don’t know. What are you making?
And then I’d make our dinner.
Mr. Julien never assumes he is going to magically get fed and always says, “Thank you”, even if all I’ve made is a pot of mashed potatoes, and that, Pajibans, is how you get to a tenth anniversary.
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