The Seven Year Check-Up

This weekend was our seventh wedding anniversary.  There’s always a reason that our celebrations are limited to a brief discussion about how yes, last time we checked we still love each other, and our wedding really was the best wedding either of us have ever been to and yes, we both remember how cool it was to see everyone on the dance-floor doing the YMCA hand actions.  Then, we score each other out of 10 (following recent promotion my current score is 41), get up, and get on with our day.

Celebrations past have ranged across seven shades of ineptitude.  In 2005 we went away for the weekend somewhere I’ve forgotten.  That might also be true for the second year, though I struggle to dredge up recall because that was in the middle of my masters degree.  My brain had imploded and whole chunks of my existence sucked into a black hole.

This might be easier if I try to work backwards.

Last year, we lunched at a country hotel before spending the entire weekend eradicating pink from the bedroom.  Our wedding anniversary involved swearing at glued-down laminate floor tiles and splattering each other with the cheapest magnolia paint money can buy.

In 2009 we had just got back from New Zealand and in a cosmic timing debacle, the shipping container full of all our worldly goods arrived on June 4.  Our wedding anniversary is June 5, so we were unpacking.  We went out for dinner but both of us were so sick from exhaustion that we barely made it home without expelling the very expensive food we’d just eaten back up the way it had gone down.

In 2008, I forgot our wedding anniversary and instead pre-booked tickets for a night out with the girls to see SATC.

2007 was a bumper year.  We were visiting the UK for a couple of weeks during our three year sojourn to NZ, and of course our anniversary coincided with the time allocated to K-man’s family.  Scheduling was tricky, but we sliced ourselves a breakfast at a posh hotel and asked that for an hour and a half, the world fuck off and leave us alone.  After we’d been breakfasting for an hour, K-man’s mother called apropos of nothing.  The day went downhill from there.

Which brings us to this year.  We topped out our celebratory chutzpah with a visit from my parents!  Yes, my parents have relocated to an idyllic venue over 300 miles away but that does not stop them having numerous meetings for the four charities they are actively involved in, which require them to be frequently in London.  Which means they stay with us.  This weekend was the second of three visits in a one-month period, where they arrive prior to my finishing work on a Friday and don’t leave again until Monday.

When I agreed to host them this weekend, I pointed out that it was our wedding anniversary so the timing was undesirable.  I was misinformed that they would be leaving on Sunday morning.  Some time between my acquiescence and last week, that changed so that they wouldn’t be leaving until mid-morning Monday, yet despite being permanently plugged into the Matrix my father failed to inform me using any one of the five devices at his disposal for communicative purposes.

So what have I learned, in seven years?  K-man has the kind of patience usually reserved for zen masters of sofa-lounging.  I’ve learned that the following behaviour of mine makes him twitch slightly:

  • not putting things away when I’m finished with them.
  • supervising him.
  • ranting, and then running out of things to rant about, so picking something really huge (e.g. global reliance on labour abuses) and then getting very annoyed about global structures.  Loudly.
  • being on the internet when it’s a sunny day.
I’ve learned that I am fundamentally impatient, and borderline obsessive about my personal private space.  The following behaviour of his enrages me:
  • not thinking through arrangements so that the sequencing makes sense and is achievable without bending time.
  • total lack of ability to deal assertively with unreasonable parental behaviour.
  • spraying a copious unnecessary quantity of deodorant in a giant cloud of noxious gas in my vicinity so that the taste in the back of my throat takes days to disappear.
  • constant temporary (sometimes quite lengthy) misplacement of important personal possessions, through unwarranted tidying.
I’ve learnt that we love each other anyway.

 

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6 Responses to “The Seven Year Check-Up”


  1. 1 Nic June 7, 2011 at 6:11 pm

    This comment is a test.

    123. Testing, 123.

    *tap* *tap* *tap*

    ?

  2. 2 clay ball June 8, 2011 at 2:10 am

    cool site! happy anniversary!

  3. 3 Jenn @ Juggling Life June 8, 2011 at 4:16 am

    We rarely do a big thing on our anniversary, but maybe next year when it is 25.

    That 3 out of 4 weekends in a month thing? Would send me round the bend!

  4. 4 Ashley June 8, 2011 at 7:45 pm

    I’m here! I’m here!

    I agree with Jenn, 3/4 weekends a month – hell, 1 weekend a month would drive me insane.

  5. 5 Jen June 9, 2011 at 10:51 am

    I’ll make you feel better about your anniversary celebrations.

    This September 7 will be # 20 for us. In two decades, we have managed to forget once entirely and not celebrate at all approximately 15 times. In 2001, first our 10th was postponed by an asshat relative who planned his wedding for that weekend, even though he was engaged for two years and I begged him not to choose that weekend, then permanently cancelled after 9/11 a few days later. For our 15th, we planned once again to get away, but my father was diagnosed with terminal cancer and I was too depressed and stressed to do anything. For our 20th, we’re not making any plans until the last minutes, since obviously our round-number years are cursed.

    Happy belated anniversary.

  6. 6 Nic @ Life, Smudged. June 9, 2011 at 6:02 pm

    Welcome to the new digs, all!

    I should probably be clearer about all this parental visitation – it’s just for this month (well, until they have another of these spates). This weekend is the last one for a while! But yeah, me and the crazy are not too far apart right now.

    @Jen – ! – your round numbers do appear to attract the horror. We already have in mind that for our tenth we will go to Sri Lanka, where we honeymooned.


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