There is a room in our house that overlooks our pond.
It has floor to ceiling windows on each wall, and is, by far, my most favorite room.
It’s mostly empty, save for an old leather couch, chair and ottoman set I bought at a flea market.
It’s a kid free zone, what with it’s lack of warmth and my constant shrieking of DON’T THROW ANYTHING IN HERE BECAUSE I SWEAR TO GOD, IF ANYBODY BREAKS A WINDOW, I WILL SELL ALL YOUR TOYS AND YOU’LL NEVER GO TO COLLEGE EVER.
So, when Andy and I want to talk, you know, beyond the conversations I have with him outside the bathroom door about the weird thud noise my car makes when I move the stick thing to letter N, or the discussion he likes to have with me over the counter about why our gas was turned off because OMG how am I supposed to keep track of every bill or piece of paper ever in existence….we go in there.
We just mush into the couch and I lay my head in his lap and make him twirl my hair because it relaxes me, and then I change the subject really fast before he tries to make me rub his feet or crack his toes.
Did you know we didn’t even speak to each other in person yesterday?
What? Are you sure?
Yep, I even acted all annoyed about it the entire night, didn’t you notice?
No, you were in the shower most the night.
Nah, I took a quick shower, I just left the water running so I could bleach my lip and paint my toenails in peace.
Next month, we turn 30. Next year, we’ll have been married seven years.
Is the seven year itch a real thing?
What about the 15 year itch, because, well, yes, we’ve been together that long.
(Not counting the extremely dramatic break our junior year of college that we swore we would never talk about again, because seriously, it was one bad mustache and backstabbing hermano away from being a telenovela.)
I wondered if he ever thought about being unmarried. Untied down. Unpoop covered.
We saw the movie Hall Pass with Jason Sudekis and that one guy who plays Lightening McQueen (yeah, I’ve become that person), so I decided it was time to have the conversation.
Only, I’m impatient, and instead of waiting until he was home on the couch with me where I could study his mannerisms and see if he’s lying, I called him and was all, do you feel trapped? Claustrophobic? Like you still have oats to sew? And, he’s all, I’m at work only call me when things are on fire or bleeding, and I was like, would you sleep with your secretary if I said it was ok, like, seriously, you can tell me. And he’s like, um, my assistant Kyle? And I was like, Kyle’s a dude!? He has long hair and dainty fingers! And, he’s all, ok, I have to go teach robots human emotion and try to beat you on Angry Birds.
Honestly, I have no idea what he does at work. All I know is he goes out to lunch everyday and says he’s too busy to get on skype to look at any of my rashes, or help me find my car keys.
Damn it. I should have waited. Now he’s on to me. I tipped my hand. He’s going to come home with prepared answers.
He walked in, we landed on the couch, he twirled my hair, pretending it wasn’t all matted together and weird feeling.
Andy, do you-
I’m gonna stop you right there. I don’t want to talk about this, I like being married, in fact, don’t want less marriage, I want more marriage.
Sweet, you mean like polygamy?!
No, I mean more time with you. Why do you sound excited about polygamy?
I don’t know, sometimes I get lonely. My friends live too far away.
Where does that Perez Hilton guy live?
Um, California? Why? How do you even know who he is.
Because his site is always up when I check our bank account on your laptop. Would you like to have a week off marriage to sleep with him?
Dude, he’s gay, do you have, like, zero gaydar?
Oh, I had no idea.
His site is hot pink and he draws wieners on people’s faces.
You did that to my entire senior yearbook.
*wistful sigh as I gaze out the window* I’ll miss my youth when I turn 30.
I won’t. It will be nice to have one alumni directory from my fraternity without nutsacs drawn on everyone’s chin.