Lockdown has forced many of us into close quarters with our significant others. I don’t pretend to have the perfect marriage and here’s why: in order to have the perfect marriage, two perfect people need to exist, and they don’t (at least not in this house). I have learned so many new things about my husband, but I’ve also learned some new things about myself. Living in close proximity with someone that you thought you knew, obviously provides enough friction to start a fire in the wood with two sticks and a rock.
Some of our fights have literally been laughable. One night for instance, I dared to flush the toilet in our bathroom without closing the lid first. So, at 23:00 we had a heated debate about whether or not a closed lid, causes the toilet to make less noise when being flushed. The debate was only settled when my husband downloaded a decibel meter on his phone and conducted an experiment. He flushed the toilet twice, once with the lid up and then with the lid down, measuring the decibels each time. I disputed his findings because it was not a controlled experiment and the next day we laughed about it.
We’ve concluded that I’m a bit of a control freak in certain areas of our lives, but we’ve also discovered that Jacques is a bit of a control freak too. We were just about to go to sleep one night when I realised that I left my phone in the living room. Using his obsessive mind against him, I asked one simple question: is the front door locked? He assured me that is was definitely locked and I turned around to go to sleep. After a few minutes of nervous shuffling, he got up to go and “make sure” and I asked him to bring my phone with him. It was a win-win situation. Another time, I convinced him that he didn’t close the garage door and after almost arriving at our destination, he turned back. I didn’t forget anything then, but it’s nice to know that I possess that kind of power.
A few days ago, I asked my dear husband to do one simple thing: take down the clean bedding from the washing line. He had one job. After four days of begging and nagging, I eventually decided that I was going take it down myself. I very theatrically grabbed the laundry basket and slammed every door on my way out, like any mature wife would. And like all wise husbands would, he quickly jumped up from the couch, rushed to my side and said that he would do it. I was fuming by this stage and he could sense it. But when you’ve been married for a while you learn some cheat codes and being the gamer that he is, he’s well versed in the field. I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle of laughter when he said, “In my defence, I thought that the longer I held out, the greater the chance that you would do it and that I didn’t have to.” I could only think of one thing to say in return: well played good sir.