Marriages are challenging on every level. Couples work day in and day out striving to be a successful duo trying to reach that final destination of inevitable dementia along with the collective milestone of holding on to three toes amongst the two of you. A set of rubber teeth seems to be the only means of foreplay at this point.
I believe as parents the main goal in life is to attend our grandkids first grade winter concert without the support of “hospice” and roll up in a custom wheelchair designed by Xzibit from “Pimp My Ride”
My point is, we all want that perfect fairytale life. I hate to be a negative nelly but I honestly believe that does not exist. Perhaps it does. Who I am I to say. I’m pretty sure there is an old couple with a rare case of chicken pox living on some West Nile infested pond with man eating alligators holding hands on some dry rotted deck saying “Yeah Mel. We lived the life.” And that’s great and God bless you.
Some couples will argue that surviving a family trip to Disney World without ending in divorce or avoiding a beheading of your spouse after the trip constitutes a positive step in your marital direction. Nothing wrong with that. It’s a different situation in all marriages involving that whirlwind hurricane typhoon tornado avalanche phase of life called love and family.
The one common denominator in all relationships is arguments and fights. I don’t care who you are. If you are in a relationship you have disagreements. No way around that one.
I love my wife so much and I try to avoid conflict at all costs. She’s half Puerto Rican so altercations with this lady usually involves switchblades, rusty forks, beans & rice and a souped up tinted-out Honda Accord covered in scratch & sniff pickle stickers.
The other day something came over me that could not be explained. I started a fight with this woman over Oreos. Yes, Oreos. As in the cookie. It was not intentional but I suddenly found myself acting like the worst husband since Ike at Tina’s bridal shower.
It was National Oreo Day (And this is a real day) so I felt the need to celebrate and asked my wife to purchase the iconic cookie for me on her way home. I love Oreos and ice cold milk. I never took into consideration (because I’m an inconsiderate asshole male specimen) my wife was suffering from a sore back, the responsibilities of taking care of our children and all of her other daily motherhood tasks. I just wanted my cookies and I wasn’t taking no for an answer. I threw a hissy fit tantrum and pouted like a three year old with a turd wedged between his diaper and rash laced inner thigh.
I honestly bow down and praise all of the mothers out there that have the patience and the life skills to raise our children and ultimately sacrifice everything to do what you do. Much respect. I just wanted my fucking Oreos.
My wife quickly put me in my place as I attempted to rub her shoulder and play with her bangs. As always, she smacked me with a pair of Lularoe panties and a metal clothes hanger.
Life is too short to fight over Oreo cookies. Chips Ahoy? Now that’s another story!