My husband has been kidnapped. I argued with him yesterday at four thirty in the morning, yes that means AM. His phone rang at that ungodly hour. We both sat up right and he answered it. He was only on the phone for maybe thirty seconds, he said two yeah's and hung up. I asked what the emergency was? Surley, for someone to call at four thirty in the morning someone was hurt or the plant had just exploded. It was niether. One of his guys from night shift had gotten off early, had a couple drinks and wanted to talk to his buddy Brad. I came unglued. It would be different if this hasn't happened a lot lately. That was the third night in a week that we had been woken up early. Now the other two times they did wait til five or five thirty for the phone to start ringing. But, Brad didn't have to be up til six fifteen those days.
So I lit into my poor husband and demanded the phone. I have never been scared to speak my my and a drunk construction worker would suit me just fine as an audience. We argued, Brad didn't think it a good idea that I call him back and have a dicussionn on propper phone ettiqiuite. I demanded that Brad's phone be shut off at night. He has to be reachable for the night shift, should an actuall emergency occur. I went off about giving his home phone number to one or two sober employees and shutting the phone off. He acted like I was a crazy person. I shut up because I knew he would at least fall back asleep. He did start snorring but only ten minutes before his alarm went off.
I know I am like a pit bull on a pant leg, I don't let go of things easily. So what makes a partially sleepless night better? Waking up to me bitching til I can bitch no more. Brad left for work and as far I as could tell we were no longer speaking to each other. Fine with me. The entire day passed with out a phone call or email between the two of us, though this isn't unusual. I hear him walk in at supper time. He and Turner talk. Brad sees that there is no hot and delicious food ready for consumption. I hear his lumbering foot steps coming down the hall. He comes to the office where I am doing my best wet hen impersonation, perched in the desk chair.
He starts off with "Before you say a word....". At the sound of this my hackles raise. Don't tell me not to talk, I prepare to let him have it. But he strikes me defensless with what came out of his mouth next: " I'm sorry about this morning, you were right. My phone will be off at night from now on." What? What the hell? What do you mean you're sorry? I'm right? Brad are you feeling OK? Brad is that even you? But that was it. He leaned in and gave me a huge hug, told me he loved me and why don't we order take out?
I appologize when I am wrong. I try to steer clear of name calling and yelling. I am seldom wrong though, or is that me admitting that I am bull headed? Either way, I am not used to him applogizing. When he is wrong we both act prickly to one another for a few days then life just kind of gets back to it's routine and we go on about our buisness. I have long told him that if he will just stop being an ass long enough to come over and hug me, I'll stop wanting to bash his head in with that can of peas I fantasize about. He has never used this tactic, until now. It works. I love being hugged by him when it's not me doing the hugging.
Ther is a lot of space in a king size bed. Enough space to let an arguement lay itself right down the middle so neither of you has to look at or think about the asshole you share the bed with. I am great at putting pillows on either side of me, a wall of bitchiness. But if my big bear of a man hugs me, I want to sleep in the middle all wrapped up with him.
Am I weak? Perrish the thought. I do realize that fighting is no fun and if he's willing to meet me half way and say he's sorry then I should let it go and enjoy the time I do get to spend with my husband. What will happen next with this stranger who came in last night and appologized? What's next? Love sonnets, foot massages, going to see chick flicks? God, I hope not. I love his manliness. Even if that includes his arrogance and unwillingness to bend. But, when he bent over last night to hug me, he was sexier than he has ever been. I am not sure if that will ever happen again, but who knows? As long as he doesn't start crying at movies or watching Desperate Housewives I can handle him changing a little for the better.
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