The three of us went out to eat tonight. I had had a long day of working on my monster portfolio and Hubster had had a long day of class where he learned about NCIC. (He explained what the letters stand for but Bridoodle was throwing crayons and causing general havoc during that part of dinner, so I missed a lot of the explanation).
Our dinner was absolutely delicious. We were starving when we arrived, so that might have had something to do with it. Anyway, as we were gathering up all of the stuff that we brought for Bri, she managed to wriggle out of one of her tennis shoes.
I’m going to hit the fast forward button here, because I doubt you really want all of the details. Suffice it to say, I ended up crouched on all fours under the mini-van trying to save a sippy cup that had fallen just out of my reach. Then I managed to swat it under someone else’s Jeep Cherokee. Meanwhile, Hubster was back inside hunting for the missing shoe. It was humiliating. I felt so vulnerable. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper when we finally got into the mini-van to go home.
So we fought about it.
It really wasn’t much of a fight. It was more of a venting session on my part and a blame dodging session on Hubster’s part. We were about half way home when I exclaimed, “I’m not trying to say that it was your fault! Why can’t you just say ‘that was a terrible experience’? Or ‘Gee, sweetie, I’m so sorry that happened’? All I want is for you to validate my experience. I’m handing you my parking ticket and saying punch a hole in it please. Just validate my feelings.”
The words were still hanging in the air in a little cartoon bubble over my head when I realized just how true they were. It seems like I’m always bouncing my experiences off of other people in search for approval and understanding. Maybe I should be more secure in my own opinions, or maybe I’m a normal female, but either way I find that I solve most of my problems by talking them out with other people in this way.