I lowered my voice hoping my parents couldn’t hear me.
“Why can’t you just spend some time with us,” I hissed at my husband. Just looking at him infuriated me. “They’re only here for three days and you only have to suffer through being social for one of them!”
“I don’t want to go into D.C.” Patrick pushed back in his chair, popping out the foot rest, nudging me back out of his face. I fully understood his reticence to go into D.C., we’d learned early on after we moved here, that there is no good time to avoid traffic in D.C. But I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t set himself aside occasionally and just do it anyway.
“You don’t engage in conversations either!” I launched into a familiar tirade. “I feel like I have to feed you lines. You won’t even verbalize why you’re too busy to do things with us. I have to make all your excuses and tell them how you feel and why you’re doing what you do, instead of you just acting like a normal adult!”
I glanced behind me up the stairs to make sure my folks were still out of earshot. My mom turned on the blowdryer. Safe, for a few more minutes.
“Then don’t.” Patrick caught my attention again.
[Read the rest of the article at Start Marriage Right.]