Someone once told me that marital disputes are a lot like a game of chess. You have to think carefully before each move, weigh the possible consequences and strategically place each piece to ensure a victory. The problem is that I am TERRIBLE at chess. My wife, on the other hand, is obviously a relative of Bobby Fischer.
Don't get me wrong. I am excellent at raising my voice. Anyone who knows me can tell you that. Boy, can I yell. But it's broad, and barbaric. She, however, has the "Art of War" locked down.
So, when we are on our respective sides of the proverbial "chessboard," (I on the black, she on the white) there is this odd, unfair glaze over the entire situation. (And because this is MY blog, I can continue the belief that she instigates the conflict.)
She confidently makes her first move.
"Why is there no more Mango Peach juice?"
You see, she had bought two juices the day before. Mango Peach and Banana Mango Pineapple. She hates pineapple. I love pineapple. That's why she bought me my OWN carton of Banana Mango PINEAPPLE juice. But when I poured myself juice, I finished off her carton of Mango Peach. So, now the only juice in the house was the kind she hated. This, in chess terms, is nothing more than a basic pawn move. But I see it as a full invasion and she must be stopped.
"Because I wanted some."
Aha! Bold, proud and confident! Deal with it. How could she possibly overcome that one?
"But you know I bought you your own juice. Why did you drink mine? I hate pineapple."
Another pawn.
"Well, like I said...I didn't want to drink that. I wanted peach mango. Am I only allowed to drink certain juices now?"
Now this was putting my king in a castle. I would only make this comment if I was prepared to go on the defensive. Which is where I spend the rest of this conversation. I have implied that I am under her control and she treats me like a child. Which any married man can tell you, is a quick way to a night on the couch...Because she will tell you to sleep there...which only concretes your statement...but it's to be known, and never to be spoken of.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
This is a brilliant question. And most men can't think of it first. Because this question puts the entire burden on the other person to try and defend the idiotic thing that just came out their mouth. And everything that is said to defend the statement in question will only come out as even more idiotic and to the woman sounds like slobbering gibberish. This was the move where the bishop breaks through the line and starts to clean house.
Note: This conversation that follows runs its course over three hours. For the sake of the length of this post, I will only post highlighted statements from the argument...You can use your imagination to fill in the gaps...
"Well, maybe if you could actually manage to...."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm so selfish to think that you..."
"Well, if you want to figure out a way to make that happen, go right ahead!"
"Fine! Call your mom!"
"How is that my fault?"
"How long has it been since I was able to just go out and bungee-jump whenever I wanted?"
"That doesn't even make sense!"
"Watch this! I'll drink anything in the fridge I damn well please!"
"Don't drink the soy sauce! You're going to make yourself sick."
"Baby....Can I please come back inside?...Baby?"
If these arguments were really like chess, then she should have to give me the warning that I'm about to lose, like in chess. After my comment about "being allowed to drink juice," she should have been required to yell "Check!" to let me know that I was already about to lose that battle. But because there's no warning, I continue to go on and on and end up looking like the baboon that I am...
Finally, after two hours of silence, she takes the gag off my mouth and unties me from the chair in the basement. I apologize and she forgives me and we kiss and make up. The rest of my day is spent trying to make up for being "so stupid" and "a bad husband." (My words, not hers)
I love my wife. She is smarter, wiser, more patient, and I must say, quite prettier than me. I know I am not easy to live with all the time. But she handles me so well, even with all my faults. I love our life together and I am glad that she can always put in me "checkmate."
Don't get me wrong. I am excellent at raising my voice. Anyone who knows me can tell you that. Boy, can I yell. But it's broad, and barbaric. She, however, has the "Art of War" locked down.
So, when we are on our respective sides of the proverbial "chessboard," (I on the black, she on the white) there is this odd, unfair glaze over the entire situation. (And because this is MY blog, I can continue the belief that she instigates the conflict.)
She confidently makes her first move.
"Why is there no more Mango Peach juice?"
You see, she had bought two juices the day before. Mango Peach and Banana Mango Pineapple. She hates pineapple. I love pineapple. That's why she bought me my OWN carton of Banana Mango PINEAPPLE juice. But when I poured myself juice, I finished off her carton of Mango Peach. So, now the only juice in the house was the kind she hated. This, in chess terms, is nothing more than a basic pawn move. But I see it as a full invasion and she must be stopped.
"Because I wanted some."
Aha! Bold, proud and confident! Deal with it. How could she possibly overcome that one?
"But you know I bought you your own juice. Why did you drink mine? I hate pineapple."
Another pawn.
"Well, like I said...I didn't want to drink that. I wanted peach mango. Am I only allowed to drink certain juices now?"
Now this was putting my king in a castle. I would only make this comment if I was prepared to go on the defensive. Which is where I spend the rest of this conversation. I have implied that I am under her control and she treats me like a child. Which any married man can tell you, is a quick way to a night on the couch...Because she will tell you to sleep there...which only concretes your statement...but it's to be known, and never to be spoken of.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
This is a brilliant question. And most men can't think of it first. Because this question puts the entire burden on the other person to try and defend the idiotic thing that just came out their mouth. And everything that is said to defend the statement in question will only come out as even more idiotic and to the woman sounds like slobbering gibberish. This was the move where the bishop breaks through the line and starts to clean house.
Note: This conversation that follows runs its course over three hours. For the sake of the length of this post, I will only post highlighted statements from the argument...You can use your imagination to fill in the gaps...
"Well, maybe if you could actually manage to...."
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I'm so selfish to think that you..."
"Well, if you want to figure out a way to make that happen, go right ahead!"
"Fine! Call your mom!"
"How is that my fault?"
"How long has it been since I was able to just go out and bungee-jump whenever I wanted?"
"That doesn't even make sense!"
"Watch this! I'll drink anything in the fridge I damn well please!"
"Don't drink the soy sauce! You're going to make yourself sick."
"Baby....Can I please come back inside?...Baby?"
If these arguments were really like chess, then she should have to give me the warning that I'm about to lose, like in chess. After my comment about "being allowed to drink juice," she should have been required to yell "Check!" to let me know that I was already about to lose that battle. But because there's no warning, I continue to go on and on and end up looking like the baboon that I am...
Finally, after two hours of silence, she takes the gag off my mouth and unties me from the chair in the basement. I apologize and she forgives me and we kiss and make up. The rest of my day is spent trying to make up for being "so stupid" and "a bad husband." (My words, not hers)
I love my wife. She is smarter, wiser, more patient, and I must say, quite prettier than me. I know I am not easy to live with all the time. But she handles me so well, even with all my faults. I love our life together and I am glad that she can always put in me "checkmate."
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