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Minor Annoyances

Every Saturday morning I wake up to my wonderful, handsome husband watching super hero movies. Every. Saturday. Morning. The big screen tv is blasting in the nearby living room with sound effects of an epic battle of someone who stretches, or has webs coming out of them, laser eyes, can fly, super strength, and the list goes on and on. Some of the movies I can enjoy so long as I’m awake enough to pay attention, but more often than not I’m sitting there asking why this one can do that and why they are fighting some other villain with equally debilitating powers. Basically I ruin the movie, both for myself and for him.img_0826-1 The thing about super hero movies (is that what they’re even called?) is that there is a whole backstory to each character that you don’t actually ever learn unless you have grown up reading the comics of how they first came to be. Which I didn’t. As much I love this man and I do, I wake up every Saturday morning thinking, “I can’t live like this.” Do you have to love someone’s choice of movies just because you love them? God I hope not.

All that I want to do when I first wake up on the weekend is watch a Golden Girls marathon, chain smoke and veg out until I can will myself into the kitchen to make breakfast or at least a giant cup of coffee. The problem being, my husband and I are that dreaded couple that literally do everything together. We don’t find it enjoyable being apart and never really have. Almost instantly in our relationship we became each other’s best friends. Now when we met nine years ago — to put it delicately — we had no intentions of being each other’s friends…at all, but we wound up equally compatible in that right too, so there it is.

Because of this ridiculously co-dependent friendship we have, every waking moment of our pathetic lives are spent together. We haven’t yet run out of things to talk about and have the same warped, sarcastic sense of humor to play off of. But if I start binge watching a series, by the time my husband walks in the door from work hours later, I will have to start it all over from Season 1 Episode 1 because he will inevitably begin watching it with me and asking questions that ends in me rolling it all back to the beginning. Though our co-dependencyimg_1019-1 can be the cause of us totally getting on each other’s nerves from time time, even in that we are gluttons for punishment. Because we have to be mad at the other while in the same room as them. Like two cats having a Mexican stand off on opposite sides, and slowly working their way1058px-kitties_ying_yang closer to each other until they’re lying, curled up in a ying-yang shaped ball together. That is us. ======>

But here’s why I can really tolerate his maddening choice of movies… Every now and then he wakes up early and gets our three year old up and dressed in clothes that can only be described as little bag lady outfits, and takes her out to get donuts. Let me tell you what this means to a stay-lola_paintat-home Mom, in three words… Fifteen minutes alone! For those fifteen minutes that they are gone I get the first of total peace and quiet that I have had for the entire week. I usually fritter them away by staring off in a comatose daze until they get back, but it’s a quiet daze nonetheless. No curly headed streak running through the house screaming at the top of her lungs. No constant singing of the ABC song in the background each time I’m sitting down to write, read or watch something on tv. My mind isn’t scrambled with what it is that I need to do next, while simultaneously yelling “stop touching that, don’t run in the house, don’t jump off of that, why did you put that in your mouth?!,” etc. It is my most favorite fifteen minutes of the week. And when my beautiful husband finally comes home with donuts and the little one in toe, he makes a steamy, soup size cup full of coffee, one for us both, and instantly I remember how lucky I am. We each have our roles that we play in this home of ours and some days those roles can really stink. We each have our own special way of annoying the hell out of each other, too. But in this case,  annoying super hero movies or not, I am the lucky one.

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