Monday, December 28, 2009

YOU JUST CAN’T COMPARE


They say marriage is a matter of compatibility. TLW (The Little Woman) and me have been comparing compatibilities since 1971! She says she is more compatible than I am. All the good things that make us compatible are from her side of the equation, while all the bad things are from my side.

This makes sense, since she wouldn’t lie to me.

For instance, we both come from large families, she has three siblings and I have four. However, she is Irish, and I ruined it by being Italian. Need more references? She went to high school, so did I, except she is smarter since she went to Seton Hall and I went to Bellport High School. Once again, I screwed it up.

We both worked for our fathers, however, she helped sell shoes, and I help to sell children’s play clothes. Again, I didn’t do it quite right, according to her. (She wouldn’t lie.)

She has an Aunt Mary, I have an Aunt Marietta, and I don’t think that one was my fault too much. She likes murder mysteries and a lot of forensic evidence. Me, I can do without lungs, brain tissue and bone: instead give me a good steak on the bone with the Food Channel.

She is a shopper, will shop for anything from a container of milk to a whole outfit. Me, I like to shop for a good pepperoni, with a matching set of provolone.

She claims when she grew up, they didn’t let or weren’t allowed to let their emotions go, while my family and I emote, at a moments notice, or the drop of a soufflé.

When it comes to raising children, we both agree, they better listen to her. I am a bad influence on my kids! I tend to swear a lot when I get mad, angry or confused, while she just simmers inside. (Emoting, once again) I once swore for two minutes in English, switched to Italian, (Thanks Dad) when I realized the children were listening and taking notes, then back to English when TLW hustled them out of the house and into the car! Why was I swearing? Well, I was under the sink, repairing a tap with a basin wrench, and banged my elbow against a pipe, so hard it left a cut and bruised for a week, at least!

Our compatibility ends when it comes to entertainment. She does not find much funny, when it is vulgar, while I laugh out loud. This embarrasses her if we are in mixed company or a public place.

If we go out to dinner, I’m sure she is holding her breath wondering if “He is going over the top tonight?” Actually, she is a lot like my Mom, another one of those silent wonders. It’s funny how children worry about parents embarrassing them in front of their friends, and wives worrying about their husbands.

Who do husbands worry about?

I could go on, but you understand, I think.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

It is really, really, really scary how familiar this relationship sounds to me. Except that the she (Irish) is the he and the he(Italian) is the she. Wow!!!!!
Do you think that there is a support group? Maybe it's called Irisital or Italiris or something like that.

SS-I-L