My Favorite Game

“You don’t seem to want to spend much time with me.”


I’m wincing at the sound of my own voice. Really, Veena? Did you just say that?


My husband looks bewildered and is at a loss for words. Of course he doesn’t know what to say. What do you say to something like that?


“It’s just that you always want to do other things.”


Oh stop it. Stop it right now. I’m nagging. I sound like a stereotypical whiny mother-in-law, but I’m speaking to my husband. Thank god I don’t have a mother-in-law like that. Thank god he doesn’t either. I guess someone had to fill the role.


“Of course I want to spend time with you, sweetie. I love spending time with you.”


See? Of course he does. You don’t marry someone unless you want to spend time with them– lots of time. Well, actually I’m sure plenty of people marry someone they don’t enjoy. Plenty of people have masochistic tendencies. But your husband is not one of those people.


“It’s just you never seek me out. Seems like there’s always something you’d rather be doing.”


Do I have an off switch, or something? No, by all means, why stop now? This is my favorite game. I like to call it “How Far Can Veena Shove Her Foot into Her Mouth?” You should try it sometime.


“Do you really though? You like spending time with me?”


I believe in my foot and I honestly think it can reach a little further.


“Yes, sweetie.”


“You’re sure?”


How the hell would be he unsure? My foot surprises me everytime. Breaks my prevailing high score without fail. I’m great at this game. Or terrible, depending on your point of view.


“Of course I’m sure.”


“It just seems like-” and as the words slip out of my mouth the realization slips into my head. Oh. Ohhh. Oh. Is that what’s going on here? Yes. No shit he doesn’t want to spend time with you. All you do is nag him to death about the one thing that’s going less than stellar in the wonderful life you share. All he wants to do is enjoy you and love you and learn with you and all you want to do is what? Of course. Your favorite Foot in Mouth game. An old classic. A true sport. You should sell tickets, you should.


“Oh. Oh I think I see.”


“What’s up, sweetie?”


“So… I moan and complain all the time, you just want to have a good time, so then you’re constantly afraid to spend time with me because you don’t know what I’ll bring up next. Is that about right?”


“Yes,” He replies without missing a beat. “Yes it is.”


Fucking rocket science, this stuff. People don’t like doing unpleasant things with unpleasant people. Can you imagine?



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