Happiness Is… Hubbie. Knowing how to diffuse the bomb that is me.
Last week I was in a huge rush to get out of the house in the morning. I was juggling feeding baby girl while eating brekkie myself, all the while as Hubbie sat very relaxed at the end of the kitchen table, scrolling through youtube and calling out to me each time something wasn’t going right: “this clip isn’t loading,” “how do I stop this now?” “why is this happening, I didn’t click anything.”
Which meant of course I had to get up, multiple times, and assist him.
I grew very, very angry. Not just with the interruptions, but he was just so happy, sitting there, not helping me, that I grew enraged. I knew I could have just said “can you please help me? I wanna get out of the house before lunchtime.” But that would be too easy. So I stewed instead.
Once we were done I practically threw baby girl at him with the statement (note, not question) “hold her.”
And then I started to wash the dishes. Furiously. I threw things around the sink, let things clang and bang, until Hubbie asked “what’s wrong?”
With a deep breath, I told him that:
I was mad that I hadn’t asked him to help me feed baby girl (this was my gentle lead in)
I was mad that he knew I was rushing and hadn’t offered to help
I was mad that he had just left a wet coaster on the kitchen bench, and commented how it might be a month until he put it back clean, unless I of course cleaned it up for him
I was mad that he had left the toaster out from yesterday’s lunch, when I hadn’t needed it.
I was just freaking mad.
I then rushed up the stairs to get changed.
I was brushing my teeth, standing over the sink, absolutely seething. I was almost boiling over, I was that shitty. Hubbie came up from behind me and in an over-exaggerated fashion started to rub my back. Without looking up I kept brushing my teeth, ignoring him, but his action had somewhat lessened my bad mood. He was making fun of me in his way, and that was better than him getting mad at me for exploding at him. It’s hard enough to be so upset, without that person then turning the tables and telling you that they’re upset you gave them an ear-bashing.
He left the room, and came back when I was washing my face. He said tentatively “are you going to bash me?”
And that was the ticker. It set me right off. From being so damn mad, I could have rivalled a volcanic explosion, to suddenly erupting into uncontrollable giggles – I couldn’t believe it. I had been so tense, that something had to come out. I needed some emotional release – and laughter courtesy of my one and only it was.
I continued laughing into my towel as I dried my face, and being in the other room I knew Hubbie couldn’t tell if I was crying or laughing, as he then asked. Just the thought of unleashing on him was so far removed from reality, so ridiculous, that it was all I needed.
He is all I need. With baby girl, of course.
I told him through tears of laughter that I didn’t want to be mad at him, but just “freaking clean up after yourself, and help me.”
And then all was good, just like that. And we left the house soon after.
It goes both ways though. Hubbie once told me, how amazed he was that someone you could be so unbelievably angry and mad with, could make you happy and smile only hours after a huge argument.
There’s no magic potion to marriage, no secrets to wedded bliss. All it requires is both parties to want to reconcile, no matter what happens.
Even when he’s shitty, I’d rather he be shitty in my company, than shitty alone. But that I don’t have to worry about all too much, because he’s a very happy person, and he makes me, very happy.
(Note: Domestic violence is no laughing matter, and if you are in a relationship where you are being abused or you are the abuser, you should seek help. The above story is so funny because it is something that could never happen in our relationship, both ways. If you’re reading this and you’re not laughing, then you should seriously consider treatment for an abusive relationship… or you may just think the story utterly boring, either way).