Throw down in Crayola Town
There are times in a marriage where words are not enough. When the only thing that will break the ugly silence is a real honest to goodness, roll up your sleeves, throw-down. Actually, it’s more like cage fighting without the cage. Regardless, this is a story about taking off the gloves, brutal honesty, commitment and most importantly, love. This is Totally Tess
It all started with my “feelings” getting hurt. Yes, I am difficult. However, just because I need to be handled delicately at ALL times, does not give my husband the right to be a knuckle head. To be honest I am not really sure what set me off? I think It was something stupid, like his un-enthusiastic response to one of my SIMPLE requests(nags).
Anyway, so It’s Day 4 of the quiet-storm-full-metal-jacket fight and my husband says in a very serious, yet sweet voice. If you could just LEARN to know when I want you to speak, and THEN know exactly when I want you to Shut your pie hole, all of this could have been easily avoided.”
Gasp!……Breath.
Okay. Maybe he didn’t say those EXACT words, but my somewhat sensitive, “occasionally” hormonal female brain started thinking. And that always ends up bad, real bad. In his defense I missed half of his initial “apology” because I was busy eating my pillow, birthing it, and then eating it again. Plus, it’s hard to speak when my eyes are secretly dismantling some of his very important body parts. Needless to say, the climate was getting thicker and thicker by the minute. By mid-morning not even a Ginsu knife could have cut the tension. He broke the silence when he mistakenly said “hey, those jeans make you look skinny.”
WHAT?? Did you just call me fat??
Next thing I know I'm throwing a hair brush. Then I run.
I am in a full sprint through my house. I look over my shoulder and there he is, right on my heels. Crap! I make it to the office and slam the door. With one arm he blocks the door and wedges his body in the doorway.
“What are you doing? I AM LEAVING!
At this point I knew I wasn’t going to out muscle him so, I had no choice but to pull out my most lethal weapon. I call it Atomic Tantrum. It’s where I mix crying with my patented “crazy eyes”, I speak in tongues, my head spins, and yes, occasionally I spit.
I think I was halfway into my lethal weapon, when I realize I am having absolutely no effect on him. I am certain I saw a yawn. Really? Have we been married that long? I am suddenly eight years old and I have been defeated.
Now, I am desperate, so I pick up a box of Crayola Crayons. I am not talking about the puny little 16 box, this was the big 360 pack, with the built in sharpener.
Don’t you do it.
It's dead quiet and I swear two tumbleweeds rolled past. I looked him straight in the eye and then with the strength of an Olympic soft ball pitcher, I throw the box at the wall. It was obliterated on impact, except for the crayons. Each and every one of those colorful crayons cascaded down the wall and fell neatly into our recycling bin below. It was pretty impressive.
We both looked at each other in disbelief. I giggled, and he giggled, and then the giggling turned into laughter. It was over. Just like that. I turn to him and say, I am starving, you?
Within 30 minutes we are eating at our favorite spot, and meet a sweet couple who had been going to the same deli for 50 years. They were sharing a chocolate éclair. The tenderness between them was overwhelming. How could I have been such jerk just hours before? In the same deli that day, we ran into an old friend of ours, who was without “his better half”. Their marriage was over. I instantly had a pit in my stomach, and suddenly the earth moved two inches beneath my feet. It was a small tremor, but it was just enough to make me realize how truly blessed I was. And while we are not perfect, and sometimes behave badly, I realized how “madly” in love I was with this man. Besides, Eclairs have always been a favorite of mine.
There are times in a marriage where words are not enough. When the only thing that will break the ugly silence is a real honest to goodness, roll up your sleeves, throw-down. Actually, it’s more like cage fighting without the cage. Regardless, this is a story about taking off the gloves, brutal honesty, commitment and most importantly, love. This is Totally Tess
It all started with my “feelings” getting hurt. Yes, I am difficult. However, just because I need to be handled delicately at ALL times, does not give my husband the right to be a knuckle head. To be honest I am not really sure what set me off? I think It was something stupid, like his un-enthusiastic response to one of my SIMPLE requests(nags).
Anyway, so It’s Day 4 of the quiet-storm-full-metal-jacket fight and my husband says in a very serious, yet sweet voice. If you could just LEARN to know when I want you to speak, and THEN know exactly when I want you to Shut your pie hole, all of this could have been easily avoided.”
Gasp!……Breath.
Okay. Maybe he didn’t say those EXACT words, but my somewhat sensitive, “occasionally” hormonal female brain started thinking. And that always ends up bad, real bad. In his defense I missed half of his initial “apology” because I was busy eating my pillow, birthing it, and then eating it again. Plus, it’s hard to speak when my eyes are secretly dismantling some of his very important body parts. Needless to say, the climate was getting thicker and thicker by the minute. By mid-morning not even a Ginsu knife could have cut the tension. He broke the silence when he mistakenly said “hey, those jeans make you look skinny.”
WHAT?? Did you just call me fat??
Next thing I know I'm throwing a hair brush. Then I run.
I am in a full sprint through my house. I look over my shoulder and there he is, right on my heels. Crap! I make it to the office and slam the door. With one arm he blocks the door and wedges his body in the doorway.
“What are you doing? I AM LEAVING!
At this point I knew I wasn’t going to out muscle him so, I had no choice but to pull out my most lethal weapon. I call it Atomic Tantrum. It’s where I mix crying with my patented “crazy eyes”, I speak in tongues, my head spins, and yes, occasionally I spit.
I think I was halfway into my lethal weapon, when I realize I am having absolutely no effect on him. I am certain I saw a yawn. Really? Have we been married that long? I am suddenly eight years old and I have been defeated.
Now, I am desperate, so I pick up a box of Crayola Crayons. I am not talking about the puny little 16 box, this was the big 360 pack, with the built in sharpener.
Don’t you do it.
It's dead quiet and I swear two tumbleweeds rolled past. I looked him straight in the eye and then with the strength of an Olympic soft ball pitcher, I throw the box at the wall. It was obliterated on impact, except for the crayons. Each and every one of those colorful crayons cascaded down the wall and fell neatly into our recycling bin below. It was pretty impressive.
We both looked at each other in disbelief. I giggled, and he giggled, and then the giggling turned into laughter. It was over. Just like that. I turn to him and say, I am starving, you?
Within 30 minutes we are eating at our favorite spot, and meet a sweet couple who had been going to the same deli for 50 years. They were sharing a chocolate éclair. The tenderness between them was overwhelming. How could I have been such jerk just hours before? In the same deli that day, we ran into an old friend of ours, who was without “his better half”. Their marriage was over. I instantly had a pit in my stomach, and suddenly the earth moved two inches beneath my feet. It was a small tremor, but it was just enough to make me realize how truly blessed I was. And while we are not perfect, and sometimes behave badly, I realized how “madly” in love I was with this man. Besides, Eclairs have always been a favorite of mine.
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