The difference a day makes

Yesterday the House had its way with us. Michael and I rarely get to the breaking point with each other…but oh, yes we did yesterday. We couldn’t look at each other, talk to each other, and certainly not make any suggestions without one of us biting the other. And biting hard. Every question I asked was met with a smarmy, “If you want it done, then you can just do it yourself”. Every comment he made, I managed to turn it into a personal attack on my very existence. At one point I just walked out of the House without saying a word. Just picked up my bag and keys and walked out the front door. All because he told me he didn’t like the handles I picked out for the attic hatch door. In my defense, he wouldn’t tell me WHAT he wanted, only that he DIDN’T want what I did.

After a couple hours intentionally apart, we called a truce and decided to do what normal people do on a Saturday night. Dinner and a movie. The Rialto is a delightful old theatre and is less than 5 minutes from our House, so we decided to go there. The Rialto rules because you can watch independent movies (last night was the Wrestler) while enjoying a beer or a glass of wine. Who are we kidding; we just ordered the bottle. Afterward we walked over to one of our favorites – the Hayes Barton Cafe – got a great table and ate a nice meal. Peace. Wine and wrestling apparently has medicinal effects on hostile spouses.

Truthfully I can’t even remember if we accomplished anything on Saturday. We were seriously that dysfunctional. We made up for it today though. The day was beautiful so Michael spent the afternoon on the porch sawing molding and I sat in the back stripping hardware. We met inside to work TOGETHER on things. I honestly don’t think there was ‘snap’ to be had. We managed to get the crown molding up in the foyer, the doors painted and rehung with clean non-painted hardware, and of course more trim painting. (I fear that will NEVER end.)

Sunday night and all is still good. I did warn Michael though, that if he dares mention the small amount of paint I accidentally rollered on the hardwood floor by the fireplace ONE more time, I will punch him in the sternum. I punch hard, and I will mean it.

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