Liam's Grandma or Maggie in Real Life

Dealing with Temper Tantrums

Need I say anymore?

Copyright 2010 liamsgrandma

Married Life

You really have to know my husband and me to understand us.   As many of you are well aware, I sometimes share conversations between Druck and me for humor's sake.  But innocent, unsuspecting people who have never really spent time with us might be appalled at the way we talk to each other.  [Side Note:  The conversations I am about to share only occur when Druck and I are alone - so no need to worry about psychological damage to children and the elderly].

Let me preface this by saying that Druck and I rarely take each other seriously.  Unless, in the course of our bantering, I slam a door, stomp a foot, glare, and yell, "I'm being serious here now!!!"  At which time, he straightens up, tries to remove the smirk from his face, and gives it a huge college try at paying attention to what I'm saying (which, is a challenge on his part and which, I might add, has benefited me at times, because what I often say to him goes in one ear and out the other and has occasionally played in my favor.  Like the time I forgot to tell him something very important and, can I add, it was something very important, and I said, "I told you, but you, being you, never listen to me, so what's your point?" And then I breathed a huge sigh of relief when he bought it, hook, line and sinker).  

Druck and I have been married nearly 30 years and, with those 30 years, have come many lessons.  But one of the biggest ones, as previously stated, is to not take life so seriously.  Granted, there are moments when things get serious and must be taken and dealt with thusly; and, certainly, in our most intimate moments, we're not being humorous, although there have been times when, in the midst of an intense makeout session, one of us bursts out laughing and the moment is lost, at least temporarily, until we can get serious again.

Yesterday morning, he got on my nerves.   I can't recall what it was about because we have learned to keep moments of frustration to a minimum.  But my response to his annoying behavior was, "I'm gonna ram a spear through your face if you don't knock it off."  He barely heard what I said and continued on with what he was doing.

Later, I simply made an observational comment that, "I've recently noticed that, for some reason, you've been keeping your shoes on while walking on our brand new carpet.  What's up with that?"  To which he replied, "Where's my hammer?"

Because we have no air conditioning (a story that, if I'm left to dwell on too long will cause something SERIOUS to occur in this household - like a serious argument and a serious contemplation of filing legal papers - only after offering my husband as a volunteer forest ranger for that hard-to-fill position located deep in the woodlands of Northern Siberia), our windows are open most of the time.  It's summer, after all, and it's hot.  Scorchingly hot.  

So one night while he was trying to adjust the fan so that I could feel it, he stood by the window while I directed him.  "Are you feeling that?" he said.  "Not yet," I replied.  "A little higher.  A little lower.  Oh yeah.  Oh yeah.  That's perfect.  Thank you."  When he climbed into bed, we looked at each other, coming to the realization that the neighbor and her friend were sitting out on her patio in the back.  "You know what they're thinking," he said.  "Well, if we had A/C, this wouldn't be a problem," I retorted.  

Druck is a very modest man.  And then, he married me.  The other day he mentioned something about my mother teaching me modesty.  I said, "Yeah, well, that lesson went right out the window."  It's not to say that I am not a lady.  I leave the house nicely coifed, nicely dressed, smelling good and smiling at everyone I see.  My mother and grandmother taught me to sit straight, walk tall and exude a confidence.  My dad taught me to think of myself as royalty so that anyone who comes in contact with me will think I'm special.  I must admit that while each of us struggles with our own self-esteem issues, at my own worst times, I try to bring mom, dad and grandma's lessons to the forefront of my own neurotic, assessment of self-worth.

One lesson of modesty that I must have been absent for relates to walking around the house in my underwear.  I have no problem with that during daylight hours because people just can't see into the house from the outside when the day is light.  Granted, I have done it on an occasional evening, but rarely.  Why walk around in my underwear?  It's not intended.  Sometimes the phone rings and it's in the kitchen instead of the bedroom where I'm getting dressed.  Sometimes a cat is screaming at the front door.  Sometimes I forgot that I was cooking spaghetti 40 minutes ago and I dash out of the bedroom like my ass is on fire worrying that the kitchen might be too.   

Druck thinks this is outlandish.  My response is that you can see more of me while wearing my bikini, so, again, what's your point?  He says he doesn't want me walking around the yard in my bikini either, which I wouldn't, but, in the privacy of my own home?  When the kids aren't here?  When no one can see in?  

Last time I did that, the conversation went like this:

D:    What, do we live in a trailer park?

M:    Is this what people who live in trailer parks do?  And what do you have against them?

D:    I don't want to live in a trailer park.

M:    We don't.

D:    Then put on some clothes.

M:    It's the same as wearing a bikini, for crying out loud.

D:    People can see you.

M:    Who?  Do you really think people are standing around outside with their binoculars trying to see into this house?  This house?  

D:    You never know.  If there's a show, they'll watch.  

M:    Fine.  I just came out here to get my hairbrush anyway.

D:    Why is your hairbrush out here?

M:    Where's my hammer?

D:    I'll use my bare fists.

M:    Not with a hammer in my hand, you won't.

D:    I'm gonna send you to the moon.

M:    Is that a threat or a promise because, you know what?  Once I get there?  I'm wearing only my underwear.

Copyright 2010 liamsgrandma