Boy, Was The Magic Alive In Our Marriage Last Weekend

Bill had a routine medical procedure on Friday, so our weekend plans were to lie low at home so he could rest. I was prepared to be a dutiful wife, taking care of my man, but the universe had different plans and gifted me with a kidney stone on Saturday morning.

I felt shitty all weekend until the stone passed early Monday morning. Bill - who also felt shitty - and I were stuck in the house together for two days.  You might imagine it being a cozy, cuddly, lazy, affectionate weekend where we cared for and soothed each other, patting heads, rubbing backs, and fetching medicines while marveling how in sickness and in health our love conquered all.

In reality, it was a fiasco that consisted of me wincing from kidney stone pain, wincing while watching Bill use a metal spatula in a Teflon pan when he made scrambled eggs, and then wincing more as he emptied the dishwasher and threw all the silverware into one big pile instead of separating it by size and category.

I swear all our battles took place in the kitchen. At one point, I was forced to perform a mind-blowing magic trick when Bill claimed we ran out of paper towels, and I instantly made a new roll appear from the pantry where we’ve stored the paper towels for the last six years. For an encore, I bit my tongue when he turned down the heat on the stove while I was making a grilled cheese and started explaining the proper temperature for cheese sandwich grilling. I’m not going to lie, while he was lecturing me on stove usage, I was pondering which divorce code section that sort of thing might fall under.

At one point, I was so cranky that Bill asked me if I was getting my period, and when I responded with “Are you f-ing kidding me?!” he looked into my eyes and said, “Calm down” like he wanted his own Dateline special.

He enacted his revenge later in the afternoon when he was napping on the couch, snoring and snorting like an angry hog. Rude. After I nudged him to stop, he woke up, immediately went into the kitchen, and loudly ate a bowl of potato chips that sounded like - I’m not kidding - he was chewing on rocks.  It was like an intentional  “most hated sounds of marriage” compilation.

Before you mock, I need to point out that kidney stone pain hurts waaaaayyy more than childbirth and people in pain have no patience for other people’s bullshit, or other people’s breathing or the fact that other people are simply trying to exist in their own home after they’ve had their own medical issues and thank goodness for this blog, where I can make everything about me and do a whole hell of a lot of complaining about the grab-bag of indignities which were thrust upon me last weekend.