I think it’s pretty obvious at this point that I at least try to be entertaining around the house. I try to make sure whenever Liz says, “I’m so bored!” it is followed by some kind of spike in the electricity in the air. Sometimes she regrets saying it. Oft times, though, she is glad she did.
It’s become routine for either one of us to fly off the handle for no good reason at all and do something senseless. Just to make the other one laugh. It’s gotten so bad, though, she ticked me off the other day and I went to say something aggressive and maybe a little hateful, just ‘cause I was mad at her and was about to leave the room and wanted to punctuate my departure.
But I screwed up, I made it to the doorway and turned back and pointed my finger at her and I said, “Fine! I’m gonna go to the bedroom, I’m gonna get naked and spend some time alone!” And I stormed off. Which isn’t easy to do with any real effect on a concrete floor. There’s carpeting, sure. But still.
As soon as I stepped into the hallway I was shakin’ my head, rolling my eyes back and forth and anywhere else they would roll, ‘Wonder where that came from? Hmmn? Thought I was supposed to be mad.’ Wasn’t the kind of impression I was aiming to leave.
Ya know, that would be really great therapy, if you think about it. I hadn’t until just now. But for marriage counseling… the couple comes in, the counselor listens to them bitch about each other for awhile, then stops them and tells them, “Take off your clothes, and swap undergarments with each other. You put on her bra and panties, you put on his boxer-briefs, and if you can keep a straight face long enough to stay mad, you have deep-seeded issues that have nothing to do with one another and you need to work on those before you can hope to sustain a marriage. Now… go ahead. Take off your clothes.”
They look at him dumbfounded. Jaws agape. Eyes wide. They don’t know what to think.
He tells them, “I won’t look. I promise. Here, I’ll cover my eyes.” He covers them. He waits. He waits. He need wait no longer. The husband fires back, “Are you frikkin’ serious, you, you creepy weirdo!”
He uncovers his eyes. He forces a laugh. “Of course not, silly man. Do it at home. Put on her bra and panties and try to sit on the bed and have a serious conversation. Put her in a jockstrap if you have to. You won’t be able to hold onto this tension between you two, and for once you’ll be able to talk.”
He makes his point. Then sighs and stares off in the distance. Evidently, disappointed.
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