Meant to be?
I spend a lot of time teasing Mr. President about the things he sometimes says to me that you should never, ever say to your girlfriend. The rest of my time I spend teasing him about the things he should be saying to me all the time but invariably misses the set up. Allow me to present an example:
After the Red Ball we went to a favorite local spot for cocktails and ran into our friend Tom. Someone had graciously offered me a seat at the bar so I could get my eat on while Mr. President stood behind me. I said something about feeling bad that he had to stand and he replied that he was fine, he had the best seat in the house even! Tom (ever the smooth operator) interjected with:
“Well, the second best seat in the house anyway” while subtly gesturing towards my ass.
(Get it? Like you also call your butt a ’seat’ and mine was obviously the best one there? Get it? Get it? Yeah, guess who didn’t…)
We both turn to look at the Prez waiting for him catch on…
“Yeah, it’s the second best seat in the house,” I say- this time totally lifting my rump off the barstool and arching my back like a spastic cat.
Nothing. Mr. President is all “what? I don’t get it”
Even when Tom started teasing him about missing the pitch, not even a pitch! More like a t-ball set up, my poor Mr. President didn’t catch on.
To be completely fair, I find this to be an adorable trait. He may just be thickheaded but I like to think that he possesses a truly genuine nature and is burdened with an incurable honest streak. It syncs up well with my propensity to tease some like we’re on an elementary school playground when I like them.
Anyhoosits, since the move we’ve had many miniature state of the union discussions to address how each of us is handling the adjustment. I keep asking if he’s regretting it and secretly hating us and he keeps saying that he really thought he would but isn’t as of yet.
Some girls would probably get all cry-face and stupid if their boyfriend told them he had planned on secretly being miserable for at least awhile when she moved in, but I find his honesty rather refreshing. It takes commitment for him to be this steadfastly un-smooth and I applaud his consistency. Even when I don’t want to…
(This scene takes place in bed, all snuggled up watching The Daily Show and exchanging sweet nothings before sleep.)
”Are you happy we came? Is it good or are you hiding ‘oh crap what have we done’ thoughts deep down in your brain?”
”I’m very happy, I thought I would be having those thoughts but I’m really, really not.”
(The monkey-cat awkwardly jumps up on his belly and he continues…)
“You and your broken kitty and your broken little kid. You guys are like that chipped piece of china, ya know? Like, it still works and you love it so you’ll eat spaghetti out of it by yourself but you wouldn’t put it out at a dinner party, you know?”
(Laughing hysterically)
“What?!? Are you saying we’re like that chipped, old coffee mug that you had to glue the handle back onto but it’s your favorite so you still have your coffee out of it every morning?!?”
(Excited that I get it…)
“Yeah! It’s your favorite and your certainly not going to throw it away but you’re not going to use it when you have company either.”
(Admittedly still cracking the hell up…)
“O. My. God. I cannot believe you just called me and my kids a junky, old, coffee mug.”
The conversation actually continued on here, he pointed out that I had said coffee mug while he had called us a plate (as though what piece of busted china we were being called made the difference) and at some point I even became a not quite washed, garage sale soup tureen because I figured having a ladle made it classy. The monkey-cat was labeled a factory- reject gravy boat and Mr. President maintained that the Spawn was the cracked plate you eat spaghetti off of.
”So there it is, huh? We’re just a busted, broken down china set on your big fancy dining room table? I am soooooo putting this on my blog tomorrow.”
And as if engaging in an argument with me over which metaphorical dishes my broken babies and I were best represented by wasn’t enough to prove how right we are together, he rolled over and said,
“Fine. Just make sure you tell them you were laughing so everybody doesn’t hate me.”
