Honeymoon's Over: Day 237

Him: Do you still like our Christmas tree?

Her: Yeah, do you?

Him: Yeah. I'll like it even more when I add a few additional ornaments.

Her: Nope.

Him: Yeah, it'll be awesome.

Her: Nope, there's no room.

Him: I'll sneak them on when you don't know so that you won't notice.

Her: Oh, I'll notice.

Him: I'm not so sure. Well, maybe only the ones that make noises when you turn the lights on.

Her: Then I guess I'll have to put your action figures in weird poses*.
*Overly effeminate or childlike stances that are strikingly unmasculine

Him: Nooooooooooooooooo!

Her: Yes.

Him: That's not proportional.

Her: That's very proportional.

Honeymoon's Over: Day 108

I spoke of my singing disorder here.

Yesterday, in the midst of belting out "It's Gonna Be Me", I finally let it all out and posed the question I've been too fearful to ask:

Tad? Do you get annoyed by all my singing?

I've avoided this question because I didn't want to deal with the answer. I didn't want to stop my personal serenade, yet, every time I caught myself transitioning from "Creep" to "May the Horse Be with You", I felt a pang of guilt. Was I driving Tad crazy?

He barely looked my way and replied:

No . . . I mostly just tune you out. Which is probably why I don't hear you when you say other stuff either.

Honeymoon's Over: Day 99

Earlier today . . .

I sat down at the computer and opened a game of MahJong solitaire. The tiles fell, but there wasn't any sound.

My hands flew to the computer's speakers, adjusting the volume and frantically reaching for the area where a port for earphones should have been.

"What? No . . . no!!"

The last of the tiles fell. Sound was completely absent.

"Tad?"

Nothing.

"TAD?"

"What?" he asked, turning briefly from his XBox game.

"Why isn't there any sound?" I screamed at him.

"My earphones are in."

"What?!"

"I was using them."

Again, I waved my hands where the earphone plug should have been. There wasn't anything there, and the poor lighting prevented me from seeing much.

"You sure they're in?"

"Yeah."

But I couldn't find them. Too frustrated to ask for assistance, I finished my game without any sound and closed out the program.


A few hours later . . .

I came back to the computer and this time examined the tower. Sure enough, earphones were plugged into the port. I removed them.

I fired up MahJong, cranked up the volume, and sighed in happiness as the tiles trickled down the screen.

"Mmmmm," I smiled. "It sounds like rain. The most beautiful sound in the world."

Tad turned from his XBox game, and stared at me for a moment. "Is that why you freaked out earlier when the earphones were plugged in? Because you couldn't hear the tiles falling?"

"Yeah," I admitted. Then, to justify my actions, said, "It's my favorite sound in the world. I love it and am sad when I can't hear it."

"So that's why you always freak out about the volume."

"Yes."

He looked at me for a few seconds, blinked a few times . . . and then turned back to his game.

Honeymoon's Over: Day 42

Three weeks earlier . . .

Husband: What are you doing?
Wife: I have to do laundry.
Husband: Oh! Well, how about I go with you.
Wife: Really?
Husband: Yeah. I want to.

Saturday evening . . .

Husband: What are you doing?
Wife: I really have to do laundry (scoff scoff, scowl scowl).
Husband: Oh.

Husband turns away and fires up Metal Gear Solid 4 on the PS3.

Honeymoon's Over: Day 18

Early morning. Little sleep.

Husband's alarm went off as wife dressed for work. Sweet and unimposing So Sorry by Feist. Husband shuffled under the sheets for a bit, then rolled over.

Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Twenty-nine seconds.

Wife stomped over and turned the sweetness off. Mornings were not times for frivolous happiness and sounds. They were for silence and anger.

Husband's eyes shot open: "I was listening to that."
Wife said: "Oh, I'm sorry."

But she wasn't.