Compromise is a 4 Letter Word

I hate compromise. It always seems that both parties leave the ring with a black eye and a half-baked version of what they wanted. Seeing as being married seems to take up a great deal of my time I read about it a lot. The Wise Ones say couples should compromise, talk things out, give and take, walk in the other partner’s shoes, let things slide, pick your battles and don’t sweat the small stuff. What I want to know is, in what universe do these marriage experts live in? Cuz it’s not mine!

Maybe the Hubman and I should try talking things out in a paint ball arena, or on a long survival training week-end with no holds barred. Or hey, maybe a Thunder Dome kind of thing…with an audience chanting,”2 men enter – 1 man leaves, 2 men enter – 1 man leaves.” Now we’re talking.

I couldn’t best Hubster in a physical contest. He’s got me beat by about 50 pounds and work outs at the gym. What I can do is confuse the hell out of him so bad his hair stands on end for a week! Ha! Take that, you mere mortal man! I am woman, try to figure me out! Go ahead I dare you! No one ever has. If I can’t figure out what’s going on in my head just how exactly do you think you’re going to do it? That, my friend, is your challenge for the rest of your natural life. And I’ll be right there with you trying to figure out what is going in your head. That is no easy task.

So how do we do it? Beats me. But seriously, how lovers manage to cohabitate for their entire lives is a mystery for the ages. People have written songs, poems, books, and plays about relationships; tragedies, comedies, psychotic sojourns through the depths of hades and everything in between. Who left the top of the tooth paste or their left underwear on the coffee maker type of melodrama is dust in the rearview mirror when it comes to living with another human being day in and day out.

Hubman and I have had a few go rounds in the last few weeks. He didn’t want to go to see the movie Twilight, and I wanted to cancel Thanksgiving or at least the hosting part of it. Turns out we both caved. He went to the movie with me and I am going to iron some &#%@$%* place mats for the table, fortified with beer and wearing oven mitts. This is a huge concession on my part, in my opinion anyway. I threw out the old iron about 8 years ago, so I had to go purchase a new iron and a bag of ice yesterday. Yeah, yeah, woe is me.

I wonder if there is such a thing as retroactive compromise. Things like, “sure I punched you in the nose because you groped my girlfriend in the broom closet, but you rolled your girlfriend around, the one who used to be my girlfriend, on the coffee table that my artwork was drying on and ruined it. So now we’re even!”

That was sort of a not made up scenario, by the way. I actually know 2 guys that used to do stuff like that to each other. The scene was modified to protect the guilty. The art work was mine. I was not involved with either guy, but I recognized the glitter and the paint colors on the body of the woman in question in the ladies room later that evening. I put it all together and informed all involved that I was not amused. Why I trusted them to leave the coffee table inviolate for one day is beyond me.

So compromise, how is it done? Arbitrators make big money with that secret. Supposed to be a win-win situation right? Well we didn’t win, we both lost. We fought and got all nasty with each other. I threw a tantrum so he went with me to a movie that made him want to gouge his eyes out. To get even with me he cooked a turkey with stuffing, twice baked potatoes and 2 chocolate cream pies…hmmm.

OK, now I just feel really silly. Maybe I’m not quite as grown up as I thought I was. I suppose owe him an apology, maybe even do something to make up for the outrageous behavior, but that’s just getting drastic.

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