From The Suburban Crab archives
My dad used to come home after a long day at work and immediately go change his clothes. He’d come out of my parents’ bedroom in a faded navy-blue turtleneck, faded navy-blue sweatshirt and a pair of brown corduroy bell bottom pants so old that the knees and seat were worn smooth.
My mother apparently found his evening attire appalling and endlessly carped over his slovenly dress. She generally expressed the sentiment that what he wore in the evenings was shamefully raggedy, lacking in style and acceptable only for a homeless person to wear.
It recently occurred to me that, while I spend a fair amount of time thinking about parenting and occasionally even bother to put these thoughts into practice, I put little time and effort into my marriage.
Photo from pacificweddings.com
Unfortunately, this has occurred to Ted as well.
We got into a fight about this on Sunday morning, when I brought up how we should talk through some of the issues we’d had recently. What I meant by this was that I wanted to discuss how a few of the comments he made last week seemed to indicate an intense dislike of me, how that had hurt my feelings and how he should apologize for having been such a jerk.
Ted had other ideas. Continue Reading