In honor of our anniversary coming up this weekend, I thought I’d take a look at how far we’ve come.
One Saturday morning, when we had been married for about six months (maybe less), I decided I was going to get up and make breakfast. I figured the noise would wake Christian up and he could start his day with this beautiful gift of love I was making in the form of eggs, sausage, pancakes, I don’t know. Some big breakfast.
But he didn’t wake up. So when I got it all ready, I went in, sat down on the edge of the bed, and shook him awake, telling him I had breakfast ready for him. I think he grunted.
I went back into the kitchen and waited. And waited. And waited. And I got madder…and madder…and madder. Until, with my gift of love stone cold on the table, I stormed back into the room and we had a rip-roaring fight on a Saturday morning.
When I said you couldn’t pay me enough to go back to age twenty-five? This is what I’m thinking of.
Some disagreements, however, are much more long-standing. For instance:
We have been married for seventeen years, and for the past twelve, I think, this has been our vacuum cleaner. And for the past eight, I think, it has not worked properly.
Specifically, it overheats and shuts down after it runs for about five minutes. You let it rest ten and then it’ll do another four. Rest another ten, and you get three more minutes of vacuuming time. You get the idea.
We had such conflict over this vacuum cleaner for so long. See, I grew up with a Kirby.
It was deep red and very loud, but by golly that thing had sucking power. And it never stopped working. Ever. I might have hated vacuuming, but at least I knew I was going to get the darned job done in one pass.
I tried to convince Christian to buy a Kirby, but he put his foot down: “We are NOT spending a thousand dollars on a vacuum cleaner! This one is just fine! It just needs the filter cleaned.”
So he’s been cleaning and replacing filters and patching the cord and I don’t know what else—for eight years. Until finally, when my grandmother died, I got her 1970s-era Kirby. I asked Christian to replace the plug, because it was an honest-to-God fire hazard, with fibers sticking out and touching the tines. But now I am a happy woman.
And now, at last, we no longer fight about vacuum cleaners. We keep Grandma’s Kirby on the 2nd floor and use the (insert your own descriptor; you’ll just have to imagine mine) Hoover for the living room and basement. (Although I must say, when I cleaned the van earlier this summer, I had to go get the 1970s-era Kirby, because the Hoover bought in the 2000s wouldn’t run long enough to get the job done.)
So, your turn: what stupid things do you fight about?
We fight about thousands of things. I think there might have been a vacuum cleaner fight here and there. But I am shocked that you had that hoover that long. Honestly Hoover’s are complete junk. ( Sorry hoover company). We would buy one and within a week or two it’s broken in someway. But, here’s the thing, you can call the company the 800 number on your box and they will send you a new one free. If you complain and say this thing is broken I need a replacement I have gotten one every time. So, you should try that with your hoover and see if you can push for a new one. They send a new one but you have to send the old one back sometimes.
Anyway, Kirby’s are good. My husband’s family had one. My husband always wanted one and I was the one saying 1000 was too much. But, it’s true they are worth it.
You are going on my husband’s bad list. He is devoted to that Hoover. LOL! 😉 But that’s interesting to know about telling the company!
After 40 years, the fights are pretty rare. But it took a long time for me not to get rampaging when I tidied up the bedroom in the morning. Because, always, there are his dirty clothes lying on the floor NEXT TO THE HAMPER! Is it really any more difficult to put the clothes INTO the hamper that is right there? He always says he’s going to put them in, I just got there too soon. I don’t know. But they are still there, every morning; I’m just to the point I don’t say anything. Although I still think it.
So many things you just have to keep your mouth shut on! (And it goes both directions, I’m quite sure.)
On Thu, Sep 1, 2016 at 9:31 AM, Kathleen M. Basi wrote: