It’s a battle of wills

Sometimes, it’s the principle of the issue that I argue about, not the actual arguement. To be fair, this is (often) why I lose arguments. Who argues about principles? This girl. That’s who.

It may or may not surprise you to hear that I am terribly forgetful. I can be negligent to a fault. Trust me, I’m no angel. So for all of the frustrations I have about others, sometimes, my faults are x2.

In one particular argument, I started it by not paying attention to details. Specifically, details related to the hubs. You see, he’s about 6’5″, and tends to bonk his head on stuff all the time. I mean, not all the time, like he’s an idiot and doesn’t pay attention. I mean, in public places where they don’t take the freakishly tall into consideration, he will, invariably, knock his head on something.

On that particular day, it was my fault. I left the visor down in his truck and when he got in, he totally cracked his temple on it. Yeah… ouch. I apologized, but to be fair to him, this was about the eleventy-eigth time I had done it. And he had talked with me before about it. I was just….forgetful. That was it.

It was a big argument that contained yelling and name calling. Him out of frustration, me out of self-defense.

The hubs: How hard is it to just *raise the fucking visor up?* You do this ALL THE TIME! Are you a moron or something?

Me: If I do this all the time, YOU THINK YOU’D BE USED TO IT BY NOW AND CHECK BEFORE YOU GET IN!

Word to the wise: this type of reasoning goes nowhere.

The argument comes and goes and before long I notice a funny thing happening. Someone is leaving the toilet seats up.

Now, I’m among the group of people who believes that you always put the seat down. Not because a lady might fall in, but because it just looks better, don’t you think? A seat up looks like it’s been recently decontaminated. But it goes deeper than that. I am crazy obsessive-compulsive. Shhh… don’t tell anyone. Most people think I’m easy-going. But I have my quirks. And I have a specific quirk surrounding toilet seats.

I read, once in a Feng Shui book, that running water is the energy equivalent to money passage. Put running water near your door = money comes in. Leave the toilet seat and cover up = you’re literally flushing money away. I know; I get it. It’s silly. But I read it, implemented it, and started obsessing over it since then. (**Side note: I am also a toilet-paper-over-fanatic. I *will* change your TP in your house if it isn’t correct. Seriously. It’s an issue.)

So when toilet seats start magically appearing up in my house, I know something’s wrong. And worse yet, I am compulsively checking them. I use the bathroom and put them down when I am done. And even if I don’t have to use the bathroom, I check to see if they are up. Alarmingly, they magically raising themselves.

Now, the really bright amongst my readers figure out, at this point, what I had yet to establish: the hubs is trying to piss me off by keeping the toilet seats raised. About 18 hours into his experiment, I figure it out, too. And I totally get the correlation. Visor down = seat up.
Except I don’t think he’s aware of the actual reason I keep them down. Nor is he aware that I am now spending a freakish amount of time checking on toilet seats.

But he is right – I am pissed.

And then, something magical happens. I decide that it is a foolish passive-aggressive game he is playing and I don’t want to play anymore. And although it kills me, I decide to completely take the wind from his sails and join his team. The seat-up team. And so I do. I use the bathroom and put the seat up. I walk past and see it down, I put it up. I figure, after a few times, he was like, “What the fuck? Who’s putting the seats up if it isn’t me?” In the meantime, we aren’t speaking. That’s a common occurrence in my home. Irritated = silence. Which drives me crazy. There’s nothing worse than a silent house, in my opinion.

But there we are. And now, I’m playing his game very well. Took me about 6 hours to really warm up to it, but now I am deliberately doing all of the things that piss me off *for* him. And I’m actually getting a cheap thrill from it. I swear to you, every time I do something that he would normally do to agitate me, I giggle a little. I come out of the bathroom and I can barely keep a straight face. It’s funny to me.

It takes him 2 days to figure out what’s happening. He’s flustered, but what can he do? He can’t be mad at me for joining the dark side? Finally, one day, he concedes.

The hubs: I was just trying to prove a point.

Me: What point? That you can be mean-spirited and deliberate when you are trying to piss me off.

The hubs: No. That I could find something that irritated you as much as the visor thing irritated me.

Me: Well, you failed. Try harder next time.

I could see defeat written all over him. I won. And winning is everything in this type of fight.

I did ultimately apologize, and have worked really hard to make sure I remember to put the damn visor up. God love the guy – he was just so frustrated that he tried anything to get me to see his point. He was pissed and I totally understand why. In a way, his little stunt worked. But truthfully, it was the most fun argument I ever had the pleasure of fighting against myself in.

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