Friday, November 4, 2011

Pouting gets me nowhere.

What is it about women, ok - let's just say it like it is - me, that when I'm disappointed with something Eric does I just won't come out and say it?

I find this blog highly ironic considering I just wrote one about the fact that we never fight a couple of days ago.  Perhaps this is why I pout until he feels guilty.  This is a very high possibility.  What a pain in the ass I am. 

I did this last night.  We're broke.  I wrote about this yesterday.  I'm also highly irresponsible.  I don't recall ever writing about this but surprise, I am!  Last night Eric and I were at a meeting for an upcoming religious education class we're teaching.  After class I thought it would be nice if we went out for a cup of coffee.  We don't get this opportunity very often and the boys would be ok at home for a little bit longer.  Well, he was being responsible.  No, he wanted to get home, it was late, and so on and so forth.  This rather shocked me.  He's usually the one who wants to go out and I was very much disappointed.  I believe it showed.

"Bri, I'm sorry.  Let's go."

"No, no.  It's ok."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's ok."  And then it was over.  The pouting commenced.  Why do I do this?  I've spoken to other friends and they do this too.  Why?  Why don't we just say, Hey - I wanted some coffee. Why did you just blow off my totally romantic mood?  Because we're idiots, that's why.  Personally, I didn't want to rock the boat because I knew we didn't have the money but come on, would $10 financially break us any more than we already are?  I don't think so.

So what did I do instead?  I got home, closed doors a little louder than usual, put on my ugly pajamas, crawled into bed, ignored Eric when he asked me a question, and played solitaire on my broken hand held computer game.  That showed him I was ok!

3 Year Old Naughty Bri
The ironic thing about my pouting is that I know I'm doing it and realize how absolutely stupid it is.  It feels like I'm having an out of body experience and the wise and grown-up Bri is shouting, "Knock it off already!  You're acting like a three year old!".  But the three year old is sticking her tongue out and refuses to give up her game.  She must be appeased.

Thank God for Eric.  There aren't too many men who would put up with my nonsense.  After he ate his warmed up, crappy dinner, he turned off the TV, and cuddled up next to me.  He apologised for missing his cue.  This, of course, made me feel like the total brat I am.  He had no business apologising to me.  I feel badly for the poor men in this world who flounder trying to interpret women like me and our goofy communication skills.  Women who expect their husbands to read their moods and feelings as is they were having a face to face conversation.  No, Eric - I'm the one who's sorry - and this time, I'm actually saying it. 



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