If Only He Would Listen...

An unfortunate (but completely avoidable) event occurred last week-end. Joe, the kids and I were driving our old truck down a little farm lane to get some wood. As we proceeded down the lane we all saw a thick branch laying across the road. I said, "Don't run over that, we might get a flat." Joe proceeded to run over it and get a flat. Sigh.

From there, as you can imagine, things went quickly downhill. To my credit, I didn't say a word. Not a single word like "Did you not hear me?" "I KNEW it" or "Nice Job". Not one word. Still, I was most certainly thinking it. To be fair, it could have happened just as easily to me, but it didn't. So there's that.

So there we were on this dirt two track road, with the kids and we need to change a flat. Did I mention that the truck was made in 1973? We didn't even know if we had a jack or any of the necessary gear. Plus, I had been sick for two days, Max was getting sick, it was nearing lunchtime (therefore the kids were STARVING) and it was starting to rain. Could there be a more obvious test of the strength of a marriage? I think not.

Of course the flat tire decided not to cooperate, as is so often the case. We would get one small victory (the truck has a jack!) and then suffer a crushing blow (one of the lug nuts is stripped). One step forward, three steps back.

I kept asking Joe to call a tow truck and he kept saying no. Finally, he had gotten all of the lug nuts removed and tried to pull the tire off. Stuck. Rusted on. Not moving. He decided to call our dear friend Lesia who came to our rescue with a sledgehammer. By the time she arrived, tensions were running high. When the sledgehammer didn't work I told Joe, in no uncertain terms, that the kids and I were leaving with Lesia. He could come with us or stay and hit the tire with a sledgehammer all day, didn't matter to me.

That's when the stony wall of silence got really bad. I was so mad that I couldn't even speak to him. And then HE got mad at ME. What??? He started slamming things around and barking at the kids, like it was our fault. I don't think so. Did I further mention that our anniversary was yesterday? 13 years of wedded bliss. You can only imagine, I'm sure.

We were finally able to discuss the situation last night a little, but I have to say, some men just don't get it. They don't understand that communication is the key to a successful marriage. I think they figure that, once they get married, they don't have to worry about all that "talking" stuff anymore. Once they get married, it's all business, "Did you call the phone company?" "What time is the party on Saturday?" "Did you get a mother's day gift for my Mom?" Check, check and check. Got it. Oh, hi, nice to see you. Didn't I used to be in love with you once?

I actually had to remind Joe that I am, in fact, still a woman. I'm all about helping out around the house. I mow the lawn, shovel snow, tote hay bales and wield a chainsaw when necessary. I even went into labor with Zoe while I was hauling wood for crying out loud. Still, every now and then, would it kill him to treat me like a girl? Remember the days of wine and roses? I'm not talking about being pampered and treasured every day but more than once every 13 years would be nice...