Monday, December 30, 2013

Why Can't I Just Shut Up 2

A sequel to the last post.  This target: husband. 

I really can't remember the details, but it was bedtime, and I was furious!  I also remember, whatever my husband did to make me mad, he was more than aware of, and apparently quite willing to agree. 

However, he thought a simple apology would do it.  So I got the old basic type.  Then he rolled over, and instantaneously began to snore.  Meanwhile I stewed on my side of the bed.

This was not over. 

So, I poked him awake.  Told him how and why he ticked me off.   He apologized again, rolled over and began to snore. 

So, I poked him again.   This went on about six times!  Seriously. 

If he could fall asleep that easily, he really wasn't getting the just of my anger: he really did get or care why I was THAT mad.

So, I poked him again.  This time he turned on the light, sat up, looked right at me, and said:

"Okay.  I'm listening."

Then, he ruined it, by adding:

"Well, I better get this over with.  It's my fault.  I screwed up, and I'm never going to get some sleep if I don't let you yell at me."

Actually, I laughed.  It wasn't really funny.  I was still mad and probably should have been insulted.  But the truth is, he called me out.   When I am really, really angry,  (See: Why Can't I Just Shut Up.) I don't shut up.   It's like a broken dam.  Water furiously rushing out, cutting, carving, barreling with angry menace, until finally the water becomes part of the quiet flowing stream.  And life hopefully returns to normal.