Monday, 28 June 2010

Giving Stuff Up

It was a lousy game against Serbia. The Serbs were sticking to their end of the field like goo at the bottom of a test tube. They seemed determined to do their darndest to get a 0-0 draw. The German team was constantly frustrated, and so was I. Beside me, my husband sighed and shifted and read his book as if what was happening on the screen had no importance whatsoever. Eventually he wandered off, which was a relief, frankly, since there are few people more annoying to football fans watching international football than non-fans, and broke the lid of the coffee pot.

Serbia scored. It was an outrage. It was unfair. It was ludicrous.

"We have to stop putting dishes in the window," said B.A., which sounded a lot like "You have to stop putting dishes in the window." "I opened the window, and it broke the lid of the coffee pot."

"WHAT!" I shrieked. My mother brought the lid to my very best bone china coffee pot (replacement value approx. $300) across the ocean in her handbag. "My good coffee pot?"

"No, the green one."

At least it was only the green one, but it was still a blow. We bought it together; it was a charity shop find. Also irreplaceable.

"Well, don't blame me," I snapped.

"I'm not blaming you," said B.A. and yadda yadda yadda, and then suddenly I remembered that the battered women's shelters fill up during the World Cup and realized why.

I swear that at no time did I want to brain B.A. Even in my boxing days, I never walloped anyone outside the ring, ever. Before the thought could even enter my mind, I thought "Spousal Abuse." I thought of how easy it would be for me to become like one of those guys, one of those guys who gets so angry about a football game that he rips a hole in the air or smacks someone. And then I turned off the game.

It was that simple. I turned off the game.

No hobby or passion is worth getting seriously irritated with your spouse. This means that if you get married, you may find yourself having to take a hard look at your passions and evaluating if they can still have a place in your life. It very may well be that they have to take a much, much lower place or be dispensed with altogether. You may have to turn the TV or the computer off.


Mark said...

Completely off-topic, but...

You're in the magazine, just as predicted! Do you need a copy?

Seraphic said...

I don't think so. They promised to send me a copy.

@ everybody else: I'm in the "Saint Anthony Messenger" magazine this month. Thus, I am having another 15 minutes of fame and, as my Inner Child would say, "how x-iting"!

Mark said...

The pics are sweet. I'll read the interview this avo. :D

Julie said...

Something I've come across lately in a few places is the sentiment, "I'd better think closely about whether I want to marry this guy because I have a good life as things are and I don't want to give that up." Does it sound stupid to say that that struck me as something new? Oh well. Anyway, although I can't say that I don't fondly entertain the possibility of chucking almost every aspect of my life multiple times a day, it's an interesting thought to run over. And I think sometimes it comes through most on the little things... like the "luxury" of just being in an angry mood or locking oneself up for a day.

Seraphic said...

No, it doesn't sound stupid. We're told again and again that we "should" have a "partner", so the idea that we might be "better off alone" often comes as a surprise.

In my day-before-the-wedding freakout, I moaned "I'll never be alone again!!!!" as if that were a bad thing. It certainly felt like a bad thing, and it would have been a bad thing, if true, since I need space and solitude to write. Fortunately, my husband supports my writing 110%, so my panic attack was for nothing. Just bridal nerves.

Shiraz said...

I'm glad you turned off the game. And I wish this fellow had: