Love Hurts
Tuesday, July 14, 2009In April, Kristin and I celebrated our 5th anniversary. Well, I say 4th because every guy knows that you’re not officially dating until your girlfriend injures you and you don’t get mad. For me, it was a busted lip. Either way, we both knew it was a momentous occasion. She felt it was a testament of the commitment we have to each other and I felt it was a miracle - she wasn’t in prison, and I was still alive.
There have been many close calls though. A few years back I did something to piss her off and, honestly, I don’t remember what it was. Maybe I ate the last of her cereal. Who knows? Anyway, instead of voicing her displeasure like normal adults do, she did the next best thing: she took a swipe at me. And, for clarity, this wasn’t an “I’m a kitten playing with a ball of yarn” swipe. It was more along the lines of “I’m a lioness trying to knock over a water buffalo running at full speed” swipe. But somehow, I managed to duck in time and escaped with my head still attached. My 200lb. oak dresser wasn’t so lucky. A piece of its siding is still missing.
What is it with women not knowing their strength? Every Christmas, I get my sister, Ari and Kris a dictionary to help them find the definition of “tickle” because here’s what they think it means: 1) To dig fingernails into another’s skin until blood is drawn and/or screams are let out. [Example: “A chunk of my underarm is missing so, no, that did not tickle.”]
So how am I still here? In the 5th grade, I took a girl’s markers without asking and she tried to take my jugular. On that day, I learned the most important lesson in life: girls are crazy. So, quite simply, being aware of that from such a young age has helped me survive.
In addition to being crazy, the girl I live with overreacts. Here are some Kristin classics:
- Me getting plain 4C Bread Crumbs instead of seasoned: “This is a nightmare.”
- Me accidently using her pillow and not mine: “I hope you choke on your phlegm and die in your sleep.”
- Me throwing the remote to her, her completely missing it, and it hitting her kneecap:
And when it comes to the idea of kids, overreaction is an understatement. Me? I hope to have about 3 big head, high-waisted babies running around someday. Kristin? She nearly gagged watching a kid spill their orange juice on America’s Funniest Home Videos. But that’s not all because her discomfort with new life reaches beyond the human race. Once on a nature show about giraffes, a mother was giving birth. And while I smiled at the addition of new wildlife to this planet, I looked over at Kris and saw it was too much for her to handle. She passed out before the baby hit the ground.
So imagine Kris’ reaction when she had a dream about giving birth…to kittens. You know that face you make when you find hair in your food? That would be considered joy in comparison. But it's great that my powers of persuasion are working because after five years she went from not wanting any children to worrying about putting cats through college.
And I must say this: she is the most caring person I’ve ever met. She’s so caring and thoughtful that I hate cooking dinner for her. Let me explain. Early in our relationship, I thought I would make her the fanciest breakfast EVER - waffles with ice cream on top. Actually, it was Vanilla Bean ice cream.
Yup, I didn’t hold anything back. So I’m spending the entire morning preparing this Ihop spectacular. You know, plugging in the toaster, getting the Haagen Dazs out the freezer, and finally I bring it to her. She smiles, says, “Thank you,” and takes a bite. Kristin then puts the fork down, and apparently begins to think of a nice way to say she doesn’t like it. She came up with, “Eww. I don’t like it." I must’ve made a big deal out of it because now she says she likes absolutely everything I make. How is that possible? I’m not a great cook, and I don’t even like half the stuff I make.
- “Mmm. This is great, Andrew.”
“C’mon. If you don’t like it, just say so.”
“What makes you think that?”
“You just put your plate on the floor and slid it to Dozer.”
"No I didn't."
“And then you said, ‘Here Doze, eat this…because it's disgusting.’”
Now, I have my share of faults and quirks too. For one, Kristin has joked she should just change her name to Can You because I ask her to do things I can easily do. I call it resourceful. She calls it lazy. I also have a vast dislike of throwing food in the garbage, so I put it in the next best place: the toilet. Pasta, scrambled eggs, waffles, pizza, and more have all gone surfing...when I remember to flush. Her 3 a.m. shrieks because she thinks she’s peed tomato sauce never stops being funny. But what she gets on me most for is my hatred of supermarkets. Let me ask you this: have you ever gone into one and did not spend more time and money than you originally intended? OK, then. So, recently I’ve been boycotting them which hasn’t made Kristin happy.
And that’s actually the reason I’m locked in the basement. She does this when I’ve been a bad boyfriend. But with this laptop I’ve hidden down here, I thought I should tell everybody about how she treats me and maybe I could get some help. Luckily she’s cooking dinner, because if she came in here now and caught me writing this, she’d sneak up behind me and chop my han
