Monday, October 01, 2012
Marriage 501, Lecture 231: Antsy
SH put Laverne out in the back yard last night and brought in the laundry that I had hung out earlier.
He took the basket into the bedroom and started to fold and put away clothes.
I remained in the kitchen, minding my own business, resting after a day of cooking.
[Cinnamon rolls, rosemary bread, roasted pepper soup, celery soup, boiled shrimp with horseradish sauce, pan-fried bass, goat cheese souffles, Chinese cabbage salad with the five lbs - OK, maybe not that much, of farmers market baby cabbage, vanilla bean pudding that broke because I forgot you're not supposed to stir stuff with cornstarch until it's set.]
And of cleaning and doing laundry.
And coloring my hair.
I used to color my hair just because I wanted a different color. I was tired of being blonde - or, better said, of being used to be blonde and now being drab. So I switched to brunette, Clairol #24 Clove, which they have re-named to Medium Ash Brown, which makes me wonder about their marketing strategy. Medium Ash Brown is certainly more descriptive than Clove, but it carries none of the romance.
Now I color my hair because without color, my hair is too boring and shot with gray - but not enough gray to go gray and have a youthful gray visage where people take a double take (is that the right way to say that? "Take a double take?") because the hair does not go with the face. My hair is dull and drab and just plain ick.
How I took my hair for granted when I was younger. My hair, my skin, my ability to wake up and feel rested.
I miss those days.
Back to the laundry. SH was in the bedroom folding laundry. I was minding my own business.
When I heard a very loud rendition of The Song of Something Bad Happened.
I ignored it.
It is SH's way to overreact to things and as I am pretty sure that poisonous snakes are not to be found in our neighborhood - the finding of one in the laundry basket being about the only thing that could make me scream, I knew it couldn't be anything serious.
The song continued.
I sighed. Knew I had to investigate. Because that's how things roll around here. All happy families are alike, all families have their own dysfunctions.
Our dysfunction is that SH gets dramatic and I try to quell the drama.
He comes from a high-drama background where loud outbursts are not just common but almost required. He has managed to overcome a lot of his upbringing, but tends to revert to it in stressful situations.
I come from a very low-drama background where parents did not drink and fight and yell mean things at each other. Where it was not acceptable to be vicious.
Not that SH is vicious to me. He is not. He has made a determined effort not to repeat the patterns he saw in his youth.
But he is still a bit dramatic at times.
Which makes me roll my eyes but you take the drama with the good.
I went into the bedroom to see what was going on.
"Ants! ANTS!" he exclaimed. "There are ANTS in the laundry basket!"
I shrugged. "Oh yeah. That happens."
"You mean this has happened before? And you still hang clothes out?"
"Of course," I said. " Why wouldn't I? They're outdoor ants. I either crush them or they escape. But have you noticed an ant infestation in this house? This is not an issue."
"But ANTS!" He stomped out of the room and returned with the vacuum cleaner.
He dispatched them swiftly, all the while muttering about clothes hanging on the line when we have a perfectly good dryer and why would someone dry clothes outside when there are ANTS?
I pinched a few ants dead, put my clothes away, and returned to the kitchen. This is my life.