5 Feet of Fury

I guess Arnie and I aren’t average

I know: studies show that most studies are crap.

However, I’m quite taken with this new one:

The average married couple argues 7 times a day.

Arnie and I probably argue 7 times a year. These “arguments” (like the one we had today) are really more like silent (except for the sighing) 12-hour pouting duets that don’t go on longer than that because I have a strict “nobody goes to bed angry” rule. (Yo, it’s in the Bible!)

I often hear about men who need their wive’s “permission” to watch sports on TV, or “bank” points towards such activities (or sexual favors) by doing something their wife makes them do, like go to the latest RomCom. I can’t imagine having a marriage like that. Where do you live, Bedrock? Are Betty and Wilma coming over with their new mink coats? Holy shit.

I have advice for women who want their husbands to, say, put the toilet seat down:

Next time you’re in the bathroom and you see that the toilet seat’s up — put it down yourself. Problem solved!

Don’t get me wrong. I am a brat. I am the only child of two only children. I believe in my heart that it my getting my own way is the natural order of things and the world would be better off if I did. (That’s my version of altruism.)

Today I didn’t get my way (again.) I have to choose between “my way” and “staying married,” and so far I am choosing “staying married” because that is the grown up answer. As a teenager approaching 50, doing something for that reason, and that reason alone, is really big deal for me.

And yeah, I actually DO want a nice, expensive present as a reward (although maybe not a mink coat.) So I clearly have a ways to go yet.