image courtesy of bbc.co.uk
“We control 50% of a relationship; we influence 100% of it.” – Anonymous
Last night, we decided to go out with friends for a last-minute happy hour/dinner type outing. Hubbs was ready to go when I got home from work and I took a quick shower & changed my clothes. The Pub was packed when we arrived, as it often is on their “1/2 off Thursdays.” Hubbs and I settled into a spot at the bar, put our names in for a table, and waited for our friends to arrive.
The evening was great fun; lots of laughs, good food, and camaraderie.
Back to our outing: everything was fine until the conversation turned to my recovery from recent surgery. Geez it’s getting old talking about that. Now let me just point out that the Hubbs was a wonderful asset while I was laid up, stepping in to take over the laundry, doing the house cleaning, running the kid around, and figuring out our meal plans. He also warmed up coffee for me, brought me supplies and picked up needed items from the store. He did a wonderful job and was very attentive and, when I was up to it, I took back the reins. The topic meandered to the fact that, in his mind, he did what he did 24/7 for 6 weeks (I was off for 7). My mind screamed the truth: he did what he did – and a fine job at that – for about 4 weeks. And then he didn’t.
I don’t know if it was the few beers I’d had, if I was tired, or if he just pissed me off but I snorted and, in front of our friends, became that woman who snarps back at her husband and who just has to be right.
Ugh. I hate that woman. I despise her and have no room for her in my relationship.
I retorted, “No, you did a great job but it was for a lot less time than you’re thinking of.”
As soon as I said it, I knew I was wrong.
It wasn’t nice of me. It was hardly gracious.
Some would argue I was only clarifiying the truth. It doesn’t matter and it doesn’t make it right.
My words, and my desire to be right, hurt his feelings and, in effect, minimized his contribution in front of our friends, whom he loves and respects.
Ouch. I feel just awful about it.
Later, I apologized. He accepted, but that doesn’t mean I don’t regret my actions.
What’s that old saying? “Choose your words carefully; you never know which ones you’ll have to eat.”