After being together for 10 years, Dan and I seem to be running out of conversation. We used to spend hours on the phone whenever we were apart, would go to bed early just so we could cuddle and talk before drifting off to sleep; we seemingly never tired of each other or were at a loss for conversation. There were times that Dan would fall asleep in the middle of our bedtime chats, and he would awaken in the middle of the night and wake me up to tell me good night and that he loved me because he'd fallen asleep before he'd had a chance to say it. (I know, right? Sickening. I lapped it up like a bowl of water sitting in the middle of the desert after being stranded in 120 degree heat with no liquid refreshment for a week.)
We were the "I love you!" "I love you, too!" "I love you more!" "No, I love YOU more!" couple.
In a word, we were obnoxious.
Slowly but surely, the bloom began to fade from the rose, he began picking his nose in front of me, high entertainment in our house was defined by how long it would take him to fart me out of the room, and I began taping Snapped! marathons and watching them in front of him to make my point. We were still the Lovey-Dovey Disgustingtons, just on a less obvious scale.
We went from talking about everything and never getting bored with one another to talking about some things because, well, we're boring:
One of our most popular discussions begins with Dan coming home from work and asking, "Did you hear who died today?" I will respond with, "Celebrity or real person?" We can usually expand that topic to mention every person who has died within the past month, year, or decade, and even on occasion drag out the computer to see if so and so is still alive. Good for at least an hour of evening entertainment, more if we're shocked that someone who's a thousand years old (like Andy Griffith) is actually still kicking.
Finances are a constant discussion in our house. I took over paying the bills a few years ago because Dan would get so stressed out by the fact that we aren't the Hilton's or the Rockefeller's that he couldn't handle it. If we only had enough money to pay our bills and eat, but not enough to fork over for a cruise to Alaska, he would go on and on about how broke we were and how we were all going to become homeless and die. Since I'd rather do it all myself than spend one minute listening to Chicken Little, he was cut out of the financial loop. This hasn't, however, stopped him from grilling me about how much money we have, how much money we've spent, what bills have been paid, how much they were, the unpaid balance on our credit cards, oh God oh God we're all gonna diiiiiiiie.... Financial discussions usually end with Dan lying pathetically in bed with his eyes closed and a cool towel over his face and me sitting in the living room feeling annoyed and watching Deadly Women.
Then there's the "What are we going to do this weekend?" Discussion. It goes like this:
Dan: "So what do you want to do this weekend?"
Me: "I dunno... we could go look at old graveyards or antique stores..."
Dan: *wrinkling his nose and making an "eeeeeeeeehhhhh..." sound, which I've learned means "I don't want to"*
Me: "Okay, what do YOU want to do?"
Dan: "Well, you're the one who complains because I always want to go spend the entire weekend with my family, so what do YOU want to do?"
Me: "I just TOLD you what I want to do. Obviously, that's not what YOU want to do. So... we could go to Malone and go to the Almanzo Wilder Museum!"
Dan: *wrinkling his nose and making the "eeeeeeehhhhhhh" sound*
Me: "Let's see if we can get into Canada!"
Dan: *wrinkling nose and making the "eeeeeeehhhhh" sound*
Me: "Well, what do YOU want to do, then?"
Dan: "I don't care... we'll do whatever YOU want to do!"
Which is why 99% of the time we wind up doing nothing, or else spending the weekend doing things with his family.
Dan loves the "If you could eat anything you wanted right now, anything at all, without worrying about calories or cost, what would it be" conversation. (This is what happens when two fatties get married. We talk about food and like it.) I will leave out the highlights of this topic, but suffice it to say, Dan really loves Red Lobster.
AND my least favorite, the "Dani, look at __________!" game. This is usually a Dan-ploy which I'm pretty sure he invented to drive me crazy. It happens when I'm deeply engrossed in a book and he's watching something stupid on tv. I need to look up from what I'm reading, try to figure out what he's pointing at, and express the appropriate emotion. I generally fail at 2 out of the 3. That doesn't stop him, however, once he's on a roll. This will continue until I say, "Could you just watch your show and let me read my book?" to which he responds, like a 14 year old girl on her period, "Fine, I'll leave you alone. Obviously, you don't want to talk to me." (Oh, boo hoo. Suck it up, you big girl.)
And last but not least,
Those fabulous conversations that go horribly wrong. These usually involve Dan, his mouth, and his foot. Nuff said.
Ahhh, wedded bliss! Just for the record, I love my husband very much. He makes me laugh so hard I cry, usually without intending to, and he is a never-ending font of blogging material. He always has the best of intentions and is generally a really good sport about all the pointing and laughing I do at his expense. I'm pretty sure we'll never completely run out of things to talk about, unless celebrities quit dying or stupid shows quit airing on tv.
We are still occasionally the Lovey-Dovey Disgustingtons, but mostly we're the Pretty Damn Comfortable Boringtons. Which works for us. We know we aren't wildly exciting and quite frankly, we don't care.
Oh, and he's staying the night with his parents tonight, because I folded first in the "What are we doing this weekend?" debate. Which is fine. I have a Deadly Women marathon recorded, just waiting for me to watch and take notes.
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