Arguments with Wife

I told Nichole the story about Doug and noticed that she didn’t say anything at all during it. I wondered if she was heeding the wish I voiced in the therapy session. I didn’t really want her to just sit silent the whole time, but I couldn’t very well complain since I kinda requested that. After I was done, all she really said was that it sucked and I should have called him on my cell phone to ask what it was. Not what I was expecting, and I was taken aback a little, but realized she was right. I agreed and said that it would have probably prevented the scenario if I had done that, but I wasn’t the only one who could have done differently. Had he told me he was still working on it instead of just taking off, knowing full well that I was there away from my office for the sole purpose of getting everyone hooked up so they can work again. I’m not going to just stand around and wonder. She didn’t say anything. I was standing there saying some more of my thoughts, speculating on it, and she finally asked what more I wanted from her.

Me: I don’t know.
Her: Well, I don’t have anything else to say. You’re just standing there looking like you’re waiting for me to say something else. What do you want me to say?
Me: I don’t know. I don’t want to tell you what to say. I want you to think on your own.
Her: I told you that you should have called and you just threw it to the ground.
Me: No I didn’t.
Her: Yes you did.
Me: No, I agreed with you.
Her: It sure didn’t sound like it.
Me: I said I agree with you, but there were also things Doug could have done that would have prevented it.
Her: Yes, Doug’s a jerk. I’ve seen him be a jerk to people when I worked there. You can’t change how people treat you. You can only change how you react.
Me: I know. It just seems like you’re saying that I was in the wrong because you only have things that I need to change.
Her: I’m not saying that, but you can’t change what he does, so don’t let it get to you. And don’t bring it home.
Me: Okay… well, I guess that’s what I have a diary for anyway.
Her: Oh, and now I’m a bad wife.
Me: I didn’t say that. You’re putting words in my mouth.
Her: You might as well have.
Me: No, I wasn’t even saying that. I was agreeing with you that a diary is probably better for complaining to than other people.
Her: Just leave me alone.

On the night of the 9th, 4 days ago, it was Nichole’s birthday. We weren’t going to go out because our car was in the shop, but my mom let us borrow her minivan. We couldn’t go on a date because we couldn’t get anyone to watch the kids, but we still went out to El Torito Mexican restaurant. After eating, my stomach hurt. I think because I had too much strawberry lemonade. Nichole had 2 margaritas, so I drove. We were going to put some gas in the van for my mom, so we took a different way home. On the way, she said that Fred Meyer has the cheapest gas, but was probably closed. Chevron was probably the best choice. As I approached the road we’d normally turn on, I was going to go straight. She said, “No! Don’t go that way!” so I put on my blinker and turned on the road instead. Halfway through the turn she was still protesting my route, saying I was supposed to go straight. I said that it was too late now since I was already in the turn.

Her: We have to get gas for your mom, remember?
Me: Yeah. Isn’t there gas this way too?
Her: I wanted to check Fred Meyer.
Me: You said they were closed.
Her: I said they are probably closed. I wanted to check! Why didn’t you go straight?
Me: Because you said not to go that way.
Her: I said not to turn!
Me: I wasn’t turning.
Her: It sure looked like it. It felt like it. I should have drove. God, I’ve had 2 margaritas and even I can drive better than you.
Me: Well, I wasn’t turning. And then you said not to go that way, so I went the other way.
Her: You had your blinker on!
Me: Yeah, after you said not to go that way.
Her: No, you already had it on! (at this point she was getting really loud and upset like she was going to have a nervous breakdown or something)
Me: I turned it on in response to you saying not to go that way. I wouldn’t have turned it on before because I wasn’t going to turn. But anyway, isn’t the Chevron over here?
Her: You don’t even know where the gas stations are! You should have thought of where you were going before even starting to drive!
Me: I did know where I was going, but you said to go a different way than where I was going, so I went with what you said.
Her: I said to go straight!
Me: And I misunderstood.
Her: Look, the Chevron’s closed!
Me: …
Her: Any more bright ideas?
Me: Please keep your mouth closed.
Her: That is not a good thing to say to me right now.
Me: Well, nothing good is coming out of it.
Her: Where are you going? You could have turned around in any one of these driveways!
Me: There’s no side streets to turn down?
Her: No, it’s a dead end! Didn’t you see the sign?
Me: Yeah, but even dead ends often have side streets that are also dead ends. It’s dark and hard to see. I wanted to see if there was a side street close first. And I can’t think with you yelling all this stuff to me.
Her: You’re making this a horrible birthday for me!
Me: …I’m sorry your birthday is sucking.
Her: Yeah right.
Me: But even so, it being your birthday doesn’t excuse what you’re doing.
Her: It’s my birthday, I’ve had 2 margaritas, and I’m mad. And I deserve to be mad and I’m not going to curb it.

We didn’t talk any more after that. The next argument we had was Saturday, 2 days ago. We were going to her birthday party at the local lake. We stopped at Safeway to get ice for the ice chest. She was going to go in and get it.

Her: Should I get 1 or 2 bags of ice?
Me: 1. There’s not enough room for 2.
Her: Ugh. Fine, I’ll get 1. Whatever.
Me: What?
Her: Nothing, you’re just not being very helpful.
Me: I answered you and said why. How is that not helpful?
Her: Never mind.

She went and came back with a really small bag of ice and it wasn’t enough.

Me: Wow, that’s a small bag.
Her: Yeah, this is how big they are. See, I knew I should have gotten 2.
Me: There weren’t bigger ones?
Her: Yeah. This one is 7 oz, the other ones are 20.
Me: Well, I was thinking of the 20 oz ones.
Her: Well, you didn’t tell me that!
Me: I didn’t even know they had ones this small.
Her: I know, you didn’t really think at all. You just answered right away without thinking.
Me: I knew the answer right away. Even if I had thought about it for longer, I would have come up with the same answer because I didn’t know about these small bags.
Her: Whatever, you’re always right.

I went and got the bigger bag and we were barely able to fit it in. 1 large bag would have been perfect. The last argument was yesterday. We were at the local annual Scandinavian Festival. We were sitting at a table eating food. Nichole and the kids were eating an elephant ear and I went to find some ice cream. I found some and brought it back. Nichole asked if I would share with her and I happily agreed. She loved it.

Her: Dang. I should have had you get me one when you were there.
Me: Well, at least we have some at home.
Her: Great, thanks.
Me: What?
Her: Obviously I don’t matter.
Me: What are you talking about?
Her: I’m only good enough for the cheap ice cream at home.
Me: *sigh* So you’re going to be like this. I didn’t say you’re not good enough.
Her: You might as well have!
Me: I’m sharing with you.
Her: I know. I’m just not worth buying some for.
Me: I didn’t know you were asking for me to. It sounded like you wished you asked me to then, not that you want me to now. It sounded like you thought it was too late or something.
Her: It is.
Me: No it’s not.
Her: Yeah, we shouldn’t spend the money.
Me: The money’s fine. If you want some, tell me. Tell me what you mean. Not this passive-aggressive feeling sorry for yourself stuff (gets up to get some).
Her: Don’t get me any. I don’t want any.
Me: And now you’re pouting. Okay. Whatever you want (sits back down).
Her: I want to go home. I’m going to get the kids in the car.

She got up with the kids and headed toward the car. I followed. She got in the driver seat and waited for me. I couldn’t get Justin in his car seat while holding my ice cream cone, so I told her she could have the rest.

Her: Give it to the kids.
Me: They’ll make a mess with it.
Her: Then throw it away.
Me: (looks around) It would take me just as long to find a trash can and throw it away as it would for me to eat it.
Her: Ugh! Fine, here!

I gave it to her and she just held it for me. I took it back when I was done and stood by the car eating it.

Me: Well, since you won’t eat it, I’ll finish it.
Her: Aren’t you getting in the car?
Me: No, I can’t drive while eating it. So either you need to finish this or wait for me to finish it.
Her: I could have us home by then, and without getting a ticket.
Me: No, you didn’t bring your license.
Her: So what? Get in the car!
Me: I can’t. You’re in the way.
Her: Really? You’re going to be like this? I might as well just walk home (gets out of the car and gets in the passenger seat).
Me: I’m not being difficult at all. You’re making bad decisions because you’re upset.
Her: It’s not a bad decision. I’m just as good of a driver whether I have my license or not.
Me: That’s not the point.

We left it after that.