I’m not talking to my husband.
The problem is that I can’t remember why.
“How can you be mad at a person and not remember why?” he asks in disbelief.
“I don’t know. I just know.”
Which makes about as much sense as holding a grudge for something you can’t remember.
“Did you have another dream?”
There was the time, long ago, when I dreamed that a woman flirted with my husband.
I woke up the next morning and was very upset with him.
“Was she pretty, at least?” he asked.
“This is not a joking matter,” I replied huffily.
“But why are you blaming me? SHE was the one who flirted!”
“Well, you were probably encouraging her!”
“So you’re blaming ME because some woman flirted with me — in a dream?” He asked.
“But it wasn’t even MY dream!” he protested.
“That’s no excuse,” I pouted.
Now, what the heck had he done this time? I couldn’t remember.
It wasn’t because of The Case of the Missing Ski Sock.
Although, I was pretty mad at the time.
“Are you sure you didn’t put my sock somewhere?” he kept asking. “That’s my expensive ski sock.”
So of course I went looking. Hours later, I’d completely re-organized his very messy closet – but still no sock.
He had learned early on that if he accused me of removing his keys, pen, wallet, cell phone, socks — you name it — I’d go searching till I found the darned thing, right where he had misplaced it. But it took me decades to catch on. Decades. Yes, I’m really that daft.
Now, if only I could recall why I’m mad at him this time.
How can I forgive and forget if I can’t remember?
Dedicated to all loving partners who con their spouses into finding things they’ve lost — and to the loving, crazy people they live with.