Marriage and bargaining, a true art form

Sometimes I think my husband tells me his brilliant ideas just to spike my blood pressure and make sure my ticker is working on a daily basis. Otherwise, I’m unsure as to why he tests me so regularly, knowing I have a tendency to losemyshit over nothing. Like today, he’s just full of nonsense talk today and GOD, I REALLY WISH I HAD THAT VOICE RECORDER I’VE BEEN WISHING FOR (any takers? http://www.amazon.com/Sony-ICDB600-Digital-Recorder-Silver/dp/B002ZZ60IY). A voice recorder would have really been useful in bringing out the tone of this little lunchtime chat we had today about the gift he wants to “give to us”.

You’ll probably get the gist, though.

“I want to get the TV this weekend, before everyone comes over for Christmas, so everyone can enjoy it.” The TV is a 50 inch Samsung, in white, as thin as paper. He thinks it’ll look faboo in our new living room, and while I agree, I do not want said TV, nor do I think we need to get it this week before Christmas just to please our friends who do not even know about said TV. I suggested we wait until the after-Christmas sales.

“They don’t have those sales.” I think he whined like an 8-year-old.

“Oh really. They don’t? What? Germany is the only country in the world that doesn’t jack up the prices and then jack them the fuck back down on the 26th? Please.”

“I’m going to jack you up,” he offered.

“Cute. You sound crazy. But fine. You want the TV? We’ll get the TV tomorrow and then since we were planning on getting a couch too, I get to pick the couch alone. You, TV. Me, couch. AND, when the TV goes on sale on the 26th, whatever the difference in price is, I get in cash to buy boots and clothes. Still want your TV?”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Heather. So if I get the TV, we spend extra money by getting you something else? No. What I’m trying to do is give us a gift, baby.” Here it comes. He is honestly going to try to convince me this gift is for me. I love this.

“Heath, what I’m trying to do is better our quality of life. I’m trying to give us something we can share, enjoy together, maybe even for the next seven years.” No he didn’t just quality of life me and propose we’re going to enjoy seven full years of this TV. I picture our current TV. We accidentally melted the bottom of it by burning a large candle under it for 12 hours straight without noticing the burning plastic smell. (*responsible adults) Seven years my ass.

“You know we are going to upgrade it again within seven years. Stop lying to me.”

“Why are you being so selfish? I am thinking about US. You are thinking about you.” He’s being slightly dramatic, considering the joint present he knows I bought us for Christmas is a weekend DOG SLEDDING TRIP IN SWITZERLAND. Um yeah. A bit different.

“You know, Christmas is about giving, not receiving.” I am just taunting him now–one of my favorite hobbies, actually.

“Fine. Then you are forcing us to continue to live in squalor.” He huffs.

Squalor? He used SQUALOR? hahahhahaah. Good god.

And so tonight I’m going to play the violin for my Tiny Tim and then tomorrow you can find me at MediaMart, where I’ll be standing in line, buying said TV. But not because he won. Because I am going to get my boots, clothes AND couch and this way just seems easiest.

3 thoughts on “Marriage and bargaining, a true art form

  1. iamcallingbullsheet says:

    Heather,

    Please allow Chris to peak over your shoulder and read this. Chris is 100% correct. Not having a high caliber TV is akin to having holes in your socks and mandals in the winter. Squaler is probably an accurate representation of reality. A man’s home is supposed to be his castle and his TV is like the coat of arms that waves on the flag in the courtyard (inside of the moat of course). Good screen quality is like the air we breath…..a must have.

    Yours,

    Banyan LeClair

    • unapologeticmoxie says:

      yadayadayada. All I ask is for my own TV up in my room and to pick the couch. We are not paupers, though I think he said we are the other night. This is after he shrieked when I took an in-progress pic of putting the lights on the tree saying, “Don’t put that shit on fb. I don’t want to hear LeClair’s mouth. Wait til we’re done.” haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

      He can have his TV. It’s kinda fancy anyway.

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