I hate my wife. Now, on the surface that may seem rather harsh but it’s a ridiculously funny part of a ritual that’s built around the Hallmark Channel.
Here’s an example. Last Sunday I had a bunch of things to get done when I walked past the living room and noticed her watching a movie that, truth be told, wasn’t that bad. It changed my priorities and I said, “I hate you.” She laughed and we settled in for the next couple hours.
That’s not the end. The following movie was actually better than the first. “I hate you.” I got up, made us a cocktail and settled in. We both enjoyed the show. And I know it’s good when she stays awake!
Okay, four hours gone. The third installment begins and now I’m realizing she controls the room. I plant my butt in the chair, make her put together the next beverage and settle in.
What terrifies me now is Christmas in July is on the horizon and there are some of those I enjoy. I can only hope they’re not on when I’m around.
We’ve been married 46 years and I think I’ve said, “I hate you” more than I said, “I love you.” But truth be told, they mean the same thing.
MM