November 25, 2012
Yesterday Beth and I had a tiff. It happens rarely, but it does happen. We have been knowing each other for over 25 years. Even best friends have disagreements. This one was very similar to many of the other ones we have had. While not going into all the details, I will give you an oversimplified version of what our arguments entail.
As you men know, spats with your wife require the use of a time machine. Even though you may be debating a current event, at some point in the debate, something from the past is going to be brought up. So here is the background information.
Last year at Thanksgiving, I still worked for The Target. Being brand loyal and all, I selected a Target ham for our Thanksgiving meal. Actually, in retrospect, it was probably purchased more around Christmas time after the hams were on clearance and we still had pallets of them in the stockroom. Anyway, I bought one. It was not good. It was too bland which means it tasted too much like ham. No honey glaze, no pecan flavoring, no pineapple, nothing. However, being stubborn, I made myself and CJ eat a good majority of this ham. Beth backed out after her first couple of samples. She was plenty brand loyal to Target also, but she was much more loyal to her taste buds. And way smarter than me. For her to continue eating this ham would have been an insult to the lives given up by Porky and Charlotte and whatever farmyard oinkers you have read fables about.
So CJ and I ate ham. Ham with potatoes. Ham with eggs. Ham sandwiches. Ham with pasta. Ham with ham as a side. Good God. You get the idea. So I would guess sometime in February I uttered a phrase suggesting that I may never eat ham again. Something like, "I may never eat ham again!"
Fast forward to November at Beth's workplace. Someone brought in samples of ham and turkey from The Honey Baked Ham store. It was delicious apparently. Beth then suggested we have ham for Thanksgiving. Okay I said. But you know how it is, I did not say it loud enough or with nearly enough passion. Beth then remembered how I had declared my loathing for ham earlier in the same calendar year. She then said, "Oh, that's right, you hate ham."
What I should have said was, "No, I hate Target ham." What I did say was, "No, ham will be fine." The word fine is never a good endorsement. Have you noticed that? When is fine good? Maybe with a ballpoint pen, but hardly any other time. Telling someone you are fine is the same as telling them, "I'm not good but I will not burden you with my troubles."
So saying ham would be fine for Thanksgiving was wrong. I totally own that one.
So we had turkey for Thanksgiving. The whole dinner was awesome and prepared by a woman with a badly sprained foot. It also took shopping trips to several stores to make happen. Even all the leftovers are gone already which means we enjoyed them so much we were willing to eat it for every meal the past couple days. Way past fine, that meal was. No, I am not sure why I am talking like Yoda.
Therefore, I am publicly stating my private apology to Beth for our tiff yesterday. All the things that surfaced were either my fault or the fault of our parents and baggage from the holidays as kids. No time machine can go back and fix those things. Holidays are stressful. The good news about those, for me anyway, is that they are not my fault. Talking them out helps lessen their affect. That is what we did.
I am sorry sweetie for yesterday. Let's not do that again for awhile. XOXO