Thursday, March 10, 2011

Share and Share Alike

Morning Readers,

     I can't help but wondering; If Romeo and Juliet hadn't offed themselves, and moved into a cute, little split-level in the suburbs, would they've lived in a monogrammed towel, matching, terrycloth robe-sharing bliss? Oooooor, would five years later, have found Juliette ready to strangle Romeo because he used her razor again? I'll leave the Shakespearean scholars to hash that one out. Not to be terribly tragic today, but the crappy cold I'm nursing, has left me to contemplate "sharing" and the gigantic role it plays in marriage. Let's flash back to last night.

     Knock, knock, knock. After a hard night's work, I sat in my little bathroom sanctuary...alone. Babies sleeping, house quiet, and a whole book of "minute mysteries" that I was determine to solve this time. Ahh, but it was not to be, for from the hallway, came this little exchange:

Husband: "Honey? Honey what're you doing in there?"

Me: "I'm doing what you do in bathrooms, hon. What do you need?"

Husband: "Oh, well, I just needed to go to the bathroom."

Me: " Ok, well, I'll be out in just a minute."

     Apparently this brief courtesy didn't mean much, as the next two seconds found me yanking my pants up as quickly as possible, while husband turned the doorknob and strode into our lavatory, as casually as a man making his way to retrieve his Sunday paper, from the end of his driveway. Seeing the look of something less than amusement on my face, he quickly tried to recover with, "Well, you look like you're done anyway."
     The response, elicited from me, began to resemble clippings of childhood rants I'd often heard my own poor parents muttering and/or shouting:

"Can't even have five minutes alone in my own house! Will anyone just let me..... If I could just....   If it's not the babies then.....   Arghhhh!!!!!"

    And so it goes. You use my razor, I steal your face wash. Can't find your pajama bottoms? I'm wearing them because I was too lazy to wash my own. Oh, you took the last cookie? Well that's ok because I just used your toothbrush. You're using the bathroom? Oh, no worries, pee's never bothered me... we'll just SHARE it. And on, and on.
     Don't get me wrong; sharing is a necessary piece in the marriage puzzle. If you can't share, then you, like Juliette, are left staring at your Romeo, in the middle of the night, pillow poised above his noggin. I love the closeness that husband and I share. We have our inside jokes, the non-stop t-shirt swapping we do, the babies we made and enjoy together, and, of course, the matching scars that Lost left on our tender psyches, after roughly, one-hundred-twenty-one hours of our life together, was brutally stolen from us....and then the ending. Oh the ending! Er.....
     At any rate, the sharing will go on and we'll deal. But is it too much to ask for five minutes of bathroom time? I think I'll grab some Nyquil and  contemplate it, face-down, on my couch.

Until Next Time Readers!