“You don’t know JACK POOP about me, do you?”
Mr. L. looks at me dumbfounded. He’s had this identical look on his face numerous times in our marriage. That look of D U H.
I had just finished watching a television show where couples were asked questions such as: what’s your wife’s favorite color, food, book, movie, destination? Stuff like that.
Most of the couples had only been married under a year, and they were already answering quickly and confidently. One dude said, “She likes blue. Not a deep, royal blue, but more like a soft, aqua blue.” Another retorted, “Her preferred foods are curry marinated chicken wings with Kraft blue cheese dressing on the side.
WTF? Such delicious details. ( to be honest, I was a bit jealous )
This got me to thinking. What does Mr. L. truly know about me after 25 years of marriage?
Would he know my favorite movie is Spartacus, my favorite series is Sex and the City, and my favorite destination is Kenya? Would he even know something as uncomplicated as what my favorite color is?
“What I’m trying saaaaaaay is you may think you know me, but you don’t know JACK POOP.”
“What are you talking about now, Kim?”
“What I’m saaaaaaaaying is, you don’t actually know the “r e a l” me.
The little things, the things you may believe are insignificant, but they’re not. Do you?
Did you know I like liver-sausage on saltine crackers after my walks? Did you know I’ve read Jonathan Livingston Seagull five times, & that I met Anne Frank in my dreams? ”
Yeah, it’s all true.
“Shit, will you please let me watch the rest of this soccer game?”
“Nope. Absolutely, positively not.”
“What do you want from me?”
“I want you to tell me what my favorite movie is.”
“Come on, really?
“Yeah, if you know me so well, what’s my favorite movie. Don’t you feel you should know this after all these years?”
“Um, it’s either The Breakfast Club, The American President, or what’s that one called with Cher and Sam Elliott you’ve watched about a million times with the bikers and that kid with the mask?
“Wrong. Wrong. And f*cking WRONG again.”
He continues watching Liverpool against Manchester. Apparently, the stupid game is more important than this conversation.
“Stop staring at me,” he finally says.
“Ok, what country would I most want to visit? I mean, I want to fly there immediately.”
He turns to look at me. ‘That’s simple. England.”
“Noooooo! I’ve been there before. Don’t you evvvvver listen to me?”
I stand in front of the television and consider performing a bit of Magic Mike to get his full attention.
Hell, No! He doesn’t deserve that until he can answer at least one of my questions.
“I’m going to miss that penalty kick if you continual standing there!” He shouts. “Move!”
“I’m not moving until you can tell me what my favorite color is.”
“Don’t you smell something burning in the kitchen?”
“Tell me NOW now now now?”
“I know that one.”
“What is it?”
“Well, you buy lots of black boots.”
I move away from the television, kiss him firmly on the lips.
“Your answer pleases me. You shall live another day.”
“For now,” I answer.
——–Darling, Reader, do you ever have conversations like these w/ your partner? If so, your partner know those little, sweet things about you?
—I’m Glad to be back. I’ve missed you all terribly. How Are YOU? xxx