A mid-life marriage is like a good carpet. It’s stood the test of time and is a little frayed around the edges. A few stains here and there, but still serviceable. You walk all over it without much thought because it’s there all the time whether you notice it or not. The only time you become concerned is when company is coming and you don’t want them to trip over it or think “eeww, they should really get rid of this pox ridden flea trap.”
I think the thing to do is drag it outside, hang over the fence and beat the living crap out of it. Beat it good and hard, let the dust cloud clear out, then beat some more. You can get rid of a boat load of stuffed down aggravations this way. If you’re really in snit, beat all the furniture. Trust me, it can take it.
Trim off any straggly fringes. Oh come on, seriously, are you EVER gonna get down there and sew them back on? I like to compare fringes on carpet to those daily annoying habitual spats. Do you snark at each other every morning about who wants which coffee. Get another coffee pot, his and hers. A buck 50 will get one at a thrift store. I have a least that much in change floating around in the bottom of my purse. If it doesn’t work so what? Give it back to the thrift store. No, just joking on that one. Do the world a favor and throw it out. Just a suggestion, I don’t live in your house do I don’t know what goes on there in the morning or any other time. But you do and you know. If you don’t, what pills are you taking anyway?
I learned a great lesson about early mornings, and coffee, and spouses from my sister, almost half my age. I’ve found that I learn a lot from anyone if I shut my trap and listen, instead of dispensing sage advice from my pedestal of advanced age. She claims that she and her husband of 15 years have reached an unspoken agreement regarding mornings. They don’t try to talk to each other until after they’ve had their coffee. If they do, it can get bad real quick.
Back to the carpet. If it’s a Persian rug or a Persian wanna-be, I know a solution for those pesky faded spots. I speak as an expert on this because I did part-time piece work for a friend who owned a Persian Rug shop. Go to an art store and get some good quality art markers. The liquid kind, not the grease pencil type. Then get down on the carpet and draw on it like you’re a kid with a coloring book. Choose colors that are close to the color near the carpet’s bare spot and fill it in with the marker. It’s actually fun and if you do it with the windows closed you’ll get a buzz from the markers and start coloring on everything, so consider yourself forewarned. When admiring your work standing up you cannot tell that the carpet is worn or faded. If you have a who guest notices, then he or she is so drunk that they have their nose in the carpet. Deny everything and send them home.
Another thought about fringes and straggles in your marriage is to do a bit of soul-searching. I know, I know, what a gruesome task. But only do it a little bit. Do you have a favorite comfy shirt that has stains on it or pair of pants that make you look like a bag lady and when you wear it you spouse rolls their eyes and shudders. Get rid of it—Today! It will only hurt a little and you’ll have forgotten all about it by tomorrow.
If there is some one little thing your spouse does that drives you bat-shit crazy? Tell them what you want for Christmas is for them to lose that habit. It might just work. If not work on ignoring skills. They might turn the tables on you and ask you to stop something that you do. I feel safe because I’m a perfect lady and never do anything annoying. (I threw that in there because the Hub-man reads this blog and I like to zing him.)
Whatever the 2 of you come up with to make it through your day-to-day life is fair game. It all works out in the end.
This fine morning I’m in bed asleep, peacefully minding my own business. Usually manage to stay out of trouble asleep. I awake to the sound of an animal yakking up something in the bedroom. Then it got weird. I get up to investigate and step in it. I hobble into the bathroom muttering various colorful and blasphemous curses that I’ll sum up as “EEEWWW” to discover poop on the bath mat. At this point I call Mr. Husband in for a consultation.
He seconds my opinion on the grossness of the situation, picks up the bath mat to head to the washing machine and slips in another pile of poo in the hallway. Even more colorful cursing ensues, of course. He cleaned his foot, where I don’t want to know. I cleaned 2 barf splats off the bedroom carpet and then fetch a cup of coffee to recuperate. I sit down on the sofa with a sigh and step in another pile of poo. This one strategically fired right at the foot of where I usually park my behind when in a vegetative state. I shriek, stand up and Hub-man comes running from the utility closet to see what is the matter and …yea you guessed it, steps in another pile of poo.
Pandemonium ensues and we’re on the verge of yakking ourselves at this point. I wanted to run screaming from the house and leave town, but I wasn’t dressed yet. We managed to pull it together and hunt the house for any other poo or yak bombs. Found another one in his office. My suggestion is we make good on the plan to send out the area rugs to the rug cleaner. And that furthermore, the cat and dog are on a strict diet of dry food and water, no table scraps, treats, lamb bones or anything else until we figure out what is wrong. We’ve been saying this for years but had not gotten around to it. Good quality Persian rugs can hide a multitude of sins but this is just way too much for either of us to ignore.
So I’m left wondering. Is the universe testing us, or is only that sometimes gross things happen to good people? I’ve heard it said, “eat a live frog for breakfast and nothing worse can happen the rest of the day.” I’m kinda hoping I ate that live frog this morning.
PS/Disclaimer: This is not normal behavior for Ms. Dog or Mr. Cat. The problem will be monitored and treated in compassionate and non-comedic manner. As in no one got spanked today!