Lola

I'm humming songs from the Kinks because it's the leftover "ear worm" from listening to the music from the house exchanger's iPod this morning.  

I'm heading up a steep hill on my bike when suddenly I find my husband pissed off at me.  We have had similar arguments nothing less than 1,000 times in our 28 years together.  He's frustrated because he thinks I'm not into one of his big ideas; (in this case about how to rate people in our pickle ball club).  I feel like he just wants me to nod my head and say, "why yes dear, that's a tremendous idea."

He rides off in a huff.  I apologize, mainly because it's easier to apologize, but he says,  "I'm not ready to accept your apology."  

I figure he will stay in a huff until I harass him enough to get over the trauma.    The whole ordeal will last 15 minutes, maybe 20. By tomorrow he will apologize for winding up, still arguing that he had a valid point, but admitting he was ridiculous.  We won't argue for another month or two so it's a rather insignificant part of our lives. 

Express fights: I'm sure shrinks study how to make fighting so efficient. We have always been efficient in life so this should not surprise me.  

The real issue is we are both exhausted from too many hours on a bike.  

I wonder, while I'm waiting for him to reset as we bike up a long scenic hill, if my arguments would be any different with a different  partner.  

I've really only had two other real relationships so that would be hard to assess.  With one boyfriend we fought all the time; in the second we never fought and quite frankly his avoidance to conflict was the number one reason I left. 

Thinking about it some more, I can't remember the fights from the first relationship.  I know that it couldn't have been about how to load a dishwasher, world politics,  pickle ball, why I can never park the car in the "right spot" in the driveway and where exactly is the correct spot, why I borrowed his razor, toothbrush, or iPhone ... We were in high school so we fought about REALLY stupid stuff.  

I return to the lyrics of the Kinks, "Girl, you really got me now... You got me so I don't what I'm doing." 

The song takes on a very different meaning.  

Then I switch songs searching for lyrics that are even more appropriate ...

"You're up, you're down, I can't work you out

You get a good thing goin' then you blow yourself out."

Silly boy ya' self-destroyer. Silly boy ya' self-destroyer."  

We continue to climb and eventually reach the top of the hill.  Kevin pulls off the road and I can see him smirk. 

"Girls will be boys and boys will be girls.  It's a mixed up, jumbled up, screwed world...." 

Which all means clearly there's a right way to load a dishwasher and park a car in the driveway.  And obviously my way is THE right way.