War of the Sexes: Brain Cell Attrition

I’ve been married for a few years now. Hell, if you count the first marriage I’ve been in the institution of marriage for almost a decade. Being the mate of someone for a while brings out the most interesting facets of yourself. Both of you learn from each other’s experiences and wealth of knowledge. In a utopia this would lead to a harmonic existence, one where the two of you would live with the utmost respect for each other in a place with large fluffy clouds, grand white columns and birds chirping as the sun casts a warming glow over you.

Reality check. That whole thing about different experiences and areas of knowledge can sometimes provoke some of the deepest, darkest, sadistic emotions you’ll feel. It also leaves you open to microscopic scrutiny and ridicule. Things that you do or say naturally all of a sudden come out as completely foreign to your mate. Don’t believe me? Here are a few examples:

The Butt As Protector
I was in the mood for a snack one day so I looked around for the ingredients of anything that would have been tasty. Rummaging through the fridge I found some nice pint of berries…with a lovely layer of white fuzz on it. Ew. As I was about to toss it in the trash I noticed that my wife had thrown away the plastic that holds a loaf of bread. Inside that plastic sleeve as one lonely piece, one of the crusty ends, better known as the “butt” of the bread.

Me: Hey! Why did you throw away that perfectly good piece of bread?
Wife: It was the last slice.
Me: Uh…yeah? And? Was there anything wrong with it?
Wife: No.
Me: Then why…?
Wife: It was the butt. Nobody eats the butt.
Me (after giggling over that last sentence): Yes they do! It is just as good a slice of bread as any other!
Wife: No it isn’t! You’re not supposed to eat it! It is only there for protection.
Wife: Protection. It protects the other slices of bread.
Me: Ok. You white people are nuts.

Michael The Mushmouth
You would think that being married to one another for a number of years you would be able to communicate with each other better than two strangers off the street. Sometimes it is like we can read each other’s minds – anticipating the next word/thought and finishing sentences. For whatever reason my wife and I get into situations where it is akin to an astronaut trying to speak to an alien. I think that she knows my thoughts and I speak to her like she should know but in truth she can’t figure out what the heck I’m talking about.

Me: Let’s go to that thing.
Wife: Store?
Me: No, the…uh…thing. At that place.
Wife: Movies? Museum?
Me: No! Uh. That place! With the thing! Where we saw that stuff! You know!
Wife: Submarine! Pizza parlor! Nuclear reactor! What is it, boy? Did Timmy fall down the well?
Me: Ugh! Ack! No! The…THING-PLACE! You know! (starts motioning manically as if playing a horrible game of charades)
Wife: Supermarket! Attic! Home Depot! Sounds like…two syllables…
Wife: Ok, ok. I’m hungry. Wanna go to IHOP?

I’m surprised we don’t walk around our house wearing aluminum foil caps. I’m also surprised we haven’t killed each other or somehow got eaten by lions.