As
I begin this essay, I should point out that my wife probably knows
four hundred and seventy-three different words (likely several
hundred others in something like five languages) to express the
thought: “Idiot.”
It’s
true.
And
accurate. I am one.
So,
before I wander too far down the husband’s perspective path of
this essay, allow me to share the idea that I have absolutely
no clue how she puts up with me. None.
And
now we begin…
If
I had to describe marriage to anyone, I think my absolute best
offering would be this:
Imagine
doing something properly for three hundred and sixty-four days
in a row. And then, on day three hundred and sixty-five: “You
always do this. Could you please try to do this the right way?”
I
mean, it could not only be a habit for you to do things a certain
way, you might hold it as a pet peeve to also do it the way that
lovely bride of yours is describing. And time and again, over
and over, no complaints. But then, one day…
You’re
in a hurry. Heading out on some errands. You’re bringing some
dishes to the kitchen sink, and it’s cold outside so you want
to get the car started so it warms up a bit, and she comes into
the kitchen before you return to the sink. And the dishes are
in the sink… and they’re not rinsed out… and yeah. You get called
out for never rinsing the dishes. Your record reflects 364-1 (and
364-1 with good intentions), but there you are getting called
out as 0-365.
That’s
marriage.
And,
it also isn’t.
Because
it’s really just a funny, simple story. Ha ha and all that. And
most people understand that marriage is a complex series of give
and take, emotion and patience, combining two lives into one home.
(And even that is scratching the surface of very deep waters.)
But,
for a really quick and easy explanation, it works. I think I’m
right… you think I’m wrong… and the only time you ever notice
is the one time it might be wrong, though you claim I’m always
wrong and I know I’m always right.
Twisted,
right? I know. And I know you know. And you know I know you know.
But do you know I know you know I… never mind.
There’s
a beauty to it though. Almost a dance-like quality. Repetition
and understanding creating familiarity. The same way there’s toothpaste
in the sink because I never rinse things out properly, there’s
also a stack of towels nearby folded just the way she likes.
There
are thousands of stories, hundreds of hours of television and
movies and standup comedy dedicated to marriage, with audiences
nodding in agreement and laughing because it’s true. There is
more to come in the years ahead. And I’m summing it up in roughly
thirty-six words.
Yup.
Imagine
doing something properly for three hundred and sixty-four days
in a row. And then, on day three hundred and sixty-five: “You
always do this. Could you please try to do this the right way?”
That’s
marriage. That’s what it’s really like. (At least to an idiot.)