"A Spoon is not a Spoon, it is a tool to be reckoned with"
As we sit on the couch in our therapists office and I retell this story, as one of those things we argue about. Our therapist who is a kindly man in his 60's turns to my husband Allen and asks him how he views my reciting of the story. Allen then proceeds to explain his outlook on my side of the story explaining the meaningfulness of the spoon. The therapist nods and listens, nods again while saying aha, aha, aha. He then tries to analyze the connection between the spoon and our marriage and what we as partners are seeking. I sit quietly, but then it happens I look at the therapist and I start to giggle, then it becomes uncontrollable and I bury my face in the couch as Allen is still trying to keep the therapists' attention to his theory on the spoon. The laughter erupts out of me so out of control and when the therapist turns to me and ask, "and what are you feeling?" - I laughed so hard that I could not speak, it was like the time when I was in 6th grade and someone said the word "Nostril" - I laughed so hard that the teacher asked me to leave the room. This time though no one asked me to leave, the therapist and Allen just stared at me as if I'd lost it. Needless to say our session ended and I still could not regroup myself, I laughed even as we got in the car to go home and thought to myself if this is what we fight about I think we are going to be just fine.
The spoon was rescued from a terrible fate in the garbage and now sits in its place of honor. For those of us who are challenged in marriage (who isn't) and life for that matter, let us celebrate our inner laughter.
My current husband and I decided to pursue counseling, (we've been married a year and a half
) to help us communicate, understand and basically stop bickering. Recently one of our most memorable bickerings (is that a word) entailed a serving spoon with a wooden handle. My husband, being a mid-westerner and a farmer, is rather frugal, practical, orderly and at times a little Obsessive Compulsive. I, having lived on Long Island for 20 years am not as, lets say, practiced in the art of over thinking. On one particular morning as I am getting ready to go to work, I was cleaning the kitchen and put the said spoon in the sink. My husband was very taken back by my actions and told me that I really should not do that, as the spoon will warp and be destroyed (he brought this spoon into our marriage). I looked at him, thinking "are you kidding me". My husband then spent some time telling me how he has kept very few things from the past and he really takes care of all these things in a most delicate manner. I, trying to keep my patience, told him that though I think he's over the top, I will respect his love for the spoon and never just leave it in the sink. I vowed to clean it and put it away immediately. My husband then got upset and said, "what's the point, I might as well throw it in the garbage" (and he does)
because if I cannot respect the tool for all its purpose then there is no point in keeping it.
) to help us communicate, understand and basically stop bickering. Recently one of our most memorable bickerings (is that a word) entailed a serving spoon with a wooden handle. My husband, being a mid-westerner and a farmer, is rather frugal, practical, orderly and at times a little Obsessive Compulsive. I, having lived on Long Island for 20 years am not as, lets say, practiced in the art of over thinking. On one particular morning as I am getting ready to go to work, I was cleaning the kitchen and put the said spoon in the sink. My husband was very taken back by my actions and told me that I really should not do that, as the spoon will warp and be destroyed (he brought this spoon into our marriage). I looked at him, thinking "are you kidding me". My husband then spent some time telling me how he has kept very few things from the past and he really takes care of all these things in a most delicate manner. I, trying to keep my patience, told him that though I think he's over the top, I will respect his love for the spoon and never just leave it in the sink. I vowed to clean it and put it away immediately. My husband then got upset and said, "what's the point, I might as well throw it in the garbage" (and he does)because if I cannot respect the tool for all its purpose then there is no point in keeping it.
As we sit on the couch in our therapists office and I retell this story, as one of those things we argue about. Our therapist who is a kindly man in his 60's turns to my husband Allen and asks him how he views my reciting of the story. Allen then proceeds to explain his outlook on my side of the story explaining the meaningfulness of the spoon. The therapist nods and listens, nods again while saying aha, aha, aha. He then tries to analyze the connection between the spoon and our marriage and what we as partners are seeking. I sit quietly, but then it happens I look at the therapist and I start to giggle, then it becomes uncontrollable and I bury my face in the couch as Allen is still trying to keep the therapists' attention to his theory on the spoon. The laughter erupts out of me so out of control and when the therapist turns to me and ask, "and what are you feeling?" - I laughed so hard that I could not speak, it was like the time when I was in 6th grade and someone said the word "Nostril" - I laughed so hard that the teacher asked me to leave the room. This time though no one asked me to leave, the therapist and Allen just stared at me as if I'd lost it. Needless to say our session ended and I still could not regroup myself, I laughed even as we got in the car to go home and thought to myself if this is what we fight about I think we are going to be just fine.
The spoon was rescued from a terrible fate in the garbage and now sits in its place of honor. For those of us who are challenged in marriage (who isn't) and life for that matter, let us celebrate our inner laughter.
3 comments:
...I'm still laughing!!! Out loud!!
Oh that was quite funny! It's great that you wrote it down too because it's something you can look back on and it will probably always give you a good laugh to remember it!
I am laughing so much, to think you paid a therapist to argue over a spoon! That was hilarious! If you had a good laugh, then the visit to the therapist was well worth it.
By the way, in your profile, change your date of birth,,,it says 1944, which would make you 62!
And also,,,,I don't know why...but the word Nostril still makes me laugh!
Thanks for stopping by.
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