Goading Wife

Well, the other day I seem to have goaded Wife into storming out of the house, though she didn't stay gone long. She had just started the laundry and we were talking about the things that Son 1 needs us to buy before he leaves for high school. We had been e-mailing back and forth on the subject while I was recently out of town, and she hadn't read my most recent contribution to the subject (a day or two before), nor understood some of what I wrote her before. So I fear I was less inclined to be helpful than I might otherwise have been. Anyway, somewhere along the line we started talking about whether Son 1 needs us to buy him a wastebasket.

Surely this is a silly thing to argue about, isn't it? We must have plenty of wastebaskets in the house; I bet we have one or more in the garage. So I said no, we're not buying him one.

She reminded me that he needs one for his dorm room, and she claimed that we don't have any extras.

Hosea: [purely at random] Ummm, gosh, OK how about the fact that there are two of them in the back bathroom? Let him take one of those.

Wife: No, the "extra" one there is a plastic one I sit on in the shower to shave my legs, because my balance isn't good enough to do it standing up. So I need it. I mean, I suppose I could give him that and then I could go BUY a stool to sit on, but that doesn't make any sense!

Hosea: Fine, whatever. I was just giving an example of my general point. And strictly speaking that's not really a "need". [I've never really sympathized with the desire of women to shave their bodies anyway, but I didn't want to get derailed onto a different topic.]

Wife: What do you mean it isn't a "need"? I suppose you mean that I don't have to shave my legs??

Hosea: "Have to"? No, you don't "have to." That's grooming. All grooming is discretionary, or at any rate personal. I don't ask you to pay for my grooming expenses ....

Wife: You know, I've had that wastebasket ever since I moved away from home. And I don't see why I should have to go without it just because you're too cheap to buy Son 1 a $5 wastebasket.

Hosea: What, are you saying the wastebasket is an important family heirloom?

Wife: No, of course not.

Hosea: But that's what you just said, in effect -- or at any rate that you shouldn't have to be inconvenienced by giving it to Son 1, even though there must be lots of other ways to address your issue without spending more money. That's the gist of it: we should go out and buy more stuff so that you personally aren't inconvenienced. It's all me me me me me me me me me me ....

At this point she slapped me in the face. It was a childish taunt, and I was being really annoying, and knew it. Also this particular taunt was one that D had coined during her big clean-up back in our Sixth Date. So it irritated Wife really seriously.

Hosea: Me me me me me me me me me me me me me ....

At this point she slapped me in the face a lot harder. Then she tried to shove past me.

Wife: Are you blocking my way? I'll call the police on you! I have the right to leave, you know!

Hosea: I'm not blocking your way. I thought we were talking, and I assumed we should finish the conversation. As for the police, feel free to call them. But you are the one hitting me, and not vice versa.

She pushed her way out of the bedroom door -- we had been in the bedroom with the door closed, and neither boy was in with us -- and ran to the front door. On her way out of it she turned to shout, "You're the biggest bastard and son of a bitch I've ever known! And you can do your own laundry!" Then she stormed out the door and slammed it.

A minute later she came back into the house, picked up a jacket and her medicines and a phone book, and then stormed out a second time.

Son 2 had been sitting in the living room reading when all this happened. So in a few minutes he came wandering back to the study, where I was finishing up the bills and Son 1 was doing something on the other computer, and said, "I wonder what all that was about, but I probably shouldn't ask."

Hosea: I have no idea, Son 2. I started by going in to make a note on the calendar, then we started talking about the things we have to buy for Son 1, and then the conversation veered off into somewhere very weird.

Son 2: I hope she isn't gone long, although since she took her pills it looks like she's planning to be gone for a few days or something ....

Hosea: I really don't know.

But then a few minutes later we heard some noises in the rest of the house, and specifically heard Wife dragging the laundry out into the garage and starting it. And once she had started it going, she came back and ensconced herself in the bed once more.

The next morning, Wife's phone rang at 5:30. She answered it, then carried it into the living room to talk. It was Friend. What I can piece together is that she called him during her brief flight the day before, but couldn't reach him and he was calling her back. In any event, she told him basically the same story I just recounted above. She did spell out where she went ... she drove to the parking lot of the local elementary school, from which she tried to call Friend. But when there was no answer, she came back to the house. Apparently Friend recommended that she move to a battered women's shelter; Wife replied that I had threatened that if she ever left the house she couldn't come back because it is "my house." (Gosh, I don't remember saying that, but why interfere in a good story?) She also added "It's only a week till Son 1 goes away to high school. After that, ... I don't want to lose Son 2, but I have got to get out of here. Hosea is such a tyrant." I have no idea what this wish will mean in reality. Probably nothing, at least for a long time, because her passivity is so great. Maybe it will mean that she does nothing for a long time and then bursts out in a break for freedom -- wild, unreasoned, unplanned, and ultimately self-defeating. If that's the case (and it is plausible) then I have to take care to limit the amount of damage she can do in the process.

She did tell Friend, weeping silently, that she felt terribly confused. At another point, after a silence where he must have said something, she added, "I do love you. That's why I keep trying to figure out how I can come out there. I've never even seen you!" Not sure quite why this should be so hard, of course. Log onto Orbitz.com, find a flight to his city, give them a credit card number, pack a suitcase, fly there, and then take a taxi to the street address she already has for him. Sounds easy to me. I feel like mis-quoting Mark Antony: "Love should be made of sterner stuff." Of course, if she did that then the woman who pretends to be Friend would have to improvise quickly to explain why he wasn't there (and wasn't due to return until the day after Wife's flight home). But I'm sure she is up to that task ... she seems to have improvised any number of whoppers in the past, and they have all been believed. (sigh)

I'm not sure how the conversation ended, because I lost interest. But I think it went on for the better part of an hour, at any rate.