Psycho Pills and My Husband

Sometimes marriage is about choosing your battles. Deciding if something is a minor annoyance, or a really big deal. Not saying every single thing that comes into your mind. Conveying some thoughts with a look, instead of words.

There are the things you say, and the things you think about saying.

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Thomas sits down at the computer, logs into facebook (this is dangerous already), and reads someone's status update. I can hear it. The click, click, click of the keyboard. The muffled chuckling.

"Tracie, come look at this. Read what I wrote. Out loud! Read it out loud so I can hear it. Isn't that funny?"

I respond, without laughing, "Okay. If you want to post that, you can post that," and quickly return to my book.

What I think about saying..... "Did you take psycho pills this morning? I know that person. You are not actually going to post that craziness on his facebook page, are you? Really!?! You know we might actually see him again in real life. Don't you think about these things?"

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Thomas enjoys shopping for presents. He loves to pick up little things he knows I like - a candy bar, cookies, cupcakes (sugar is the way to my heart), things like that. But sometimes he gets detoured in the clothing department.

I am not sure why there isn't a woman working in department stores whose sole job is keeping husbands out of the women's clothing department, but that is a subject for another day.

Thomas came home with a shirt for me. I really should have a picture of it here so you could bask in the scariness. Imagine with me the worst shirt you have ever seen in a store, or all clothes your grandma wore in 1982.

Combine these four shirts in your mind, and you will have a good idea.

"Here, honey. I saw this, and it was so pretty, I wanted to bring it to you. Try it on. See if it fits."

I put on the shirt. Remembering that he was trying to do something nice, I place a smile on my face, and say, "It is so sweet of you to bring me a shirt. It is not my usual style, but it is very special. I think it might be a little too small. If I dry it in the dryer, it will shrink. I should probably take it back, and see if I can get a size bigger."

What I think about saying..... "I am sorry. Were you shopping for me, or for your imaginary wife who is 95 years old? I am not a grandma. Why did you buy me this crazy, appliqué-flowered mess? On what planet are shoulder pads attractive in the year 2010? I would never wear this in public. I will, however, take it back to the store, have a difficult time finding the rack it came on, and replace it with a shirt that doesn't make me look like a crazy person."

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I will restrain myself from sharing the conversations where Thomas invites me to play computer games (games other than Candy Crush - I love me some Candy Crush) with him.

It is enough to tell you my response..... "No I will not play World of Warcraft with you. I do not want to be a troll. I do not want to kill giant lizard things. I will not hang out with your friends, when all they talk about is how cool it is when they turn into bears. If they want to be bears, that is fine, as long as they are bears.....way over there.........far away from me!"

Actually, this was exactly what I said to him. I chose that battle immediately.

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