Every time my mother comes to Connecticut to babysit the two kids, she spends the night. It's just the way it goes. She lives a few states over. The poor woman can't spend her life on the highway.
As much as I appreciate the free (and loving) childcare, having my mother hunker down with us two or three nights a week gets old really fast, especially since we don't have a guest room. When she starts rubbing her eyes at 8:45 pm and unpacking her pajamas, Chuck and I retreat up to the bedroom.
If we were a horny pair of 17-year-old virgins, the last part of that sentence would have ended with Wink, wink. (Or heavy petting followed by wahooooooo! Again!) Sadly, we are a somewhat middle-aged pair of stressed out, exhausted parents who are leaking hormones left and right.
Instead of rockin' the roost, we have conversations like this one:
Me: Why don't we like horses? Shouldn't one of us like horses?
Chuck: I don't know.
Me: Some people really like horses. What happened to us?
Chuck: Um, I don't know.
Me: Should we go to a stable and try to like a horse? You know, brush one or something?
Chuck: If you want to...
Me: People who like horses seem to like to brush them. Maybe that's what happened: We never got into grooming a horse.
Chuck: Could be.
Me: Would you go to a stable with me? If I suddenly became obsessed with horses? Even if we had to get up at eight in the morning and drag the kids? Even if it was the last thing you wanted to do?
Chuck: I guess.
Me: What do you mean, You guess?
Chuck: I mean, sure.
Me: It's that kind of ambivalence that's going to lead us straight to divorce court.
Chuck: [Sigh] Really? We're going to divorce because of a horse we don't even know if we like?
Me: Stranger things have happened.
Chuck: I think we should go to sleep.
Me: What about the horse thing? Shouldn't we make a decision? Like, are we horse people or not?
Chuck: We're not! Shut up and go to sleep.
Me: I guess you never read Black Beauty as a kid...
Chuck: Goodnight...
Me: You're not even going to try to get with me?
Chuck: All the horse talk kind of killed it.
Me: If this marriage is going to work, you're going to have to love me and my horse.
Chuck: Please stop talking.
Me: Would it help if I said, 'Ride me?' "
Chuck: No.
Me: Do you want to brush my long mane?
Chuck: NO!
Me: FINE! Sheesh.
Chuck: [Rolling over] Do you think your mom would ever sleep in the garage?
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8 comments:
What about goats? Do you like goats? I NEED to know before I come back again....
Oh, you can brush me. I like to be brushed.
Of course! All kinds of goats!
Don't feel bad, neither Nick nor I particularly like horses. We don't dislike them, but we don't really like them either.
Well that's just fantastic. Now I need to add "must start love affair with horses" to my list of desirable character traits I must develop. Sheesh.
Best,
Tina
Horses? When my daughters went through that stage I firmly told them, 'You were born into the wrong family. We don't do horses.' They got over it.
Neither of my kids got into horses (I kind of liked the when I was younger but outgrew it). I love animals but horses are probably among the not so favorite. Don't dislike them, just not interested.
I'm certain my husband is afraid of horses. Crap. I have no idea what this means for our marriage.
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