The Wright Place: What Good Wives Don't Do...

We'd had another loooooooonnnnnnggggg Wednesday. My Man and I were sorta cuddled up on the couch decompressing after shooing the older kids off to bed. I was reviewing school plans for the following day and Darrin was alternatively texting a friend and attempting to read an article that he'd found in his Twitter feed. We'd turned the TV on for noise. You'd think we'd had enough noise for the day, but no, we were needing to fill our ears with pointless drama just to make our evening complete.

Soon, we'd provide our own pointless drama.

"Ahhhkkk," said my Man, disgusted and tapping his smart phone to no avail.

"What's wrong?"

"I lost this article I was reading through Twitter."

"Just go to Safari, maybe it's there."

My Man did not take my suggestion. He continued his Twitter torture.

"Really, honey, try going to the Safari app, it'll probably be there."

Again, he ignored me and continued on with Twitter.

"If you go to Safari, you'll get there faster."

Hufffffff. "I want to try this my way, OK?"

Hufffffffffffffffffff. Scooting to less cozy spot on couch. "You couldn't just appease me and do it my way?"

"Sure I could, but I'm gonna do it my way." Finds elusive article. Reads article. Turns my way.

"I'm off to bed. So beat. Long day." Leans in for good night kiss...receives instead THE LOOK.

"What on earth is the matter?"

Explanation of the issue and allllllllll related issues follows.

The sorting out of the matter took upwards of an hour. An hour that neither of us had the energy for. Truely it was worth digging down deep to discuss all of the finer points because it was of life changing import...cause you know it was over TWITTER and SMART phones and at that moment it involved two worn out tired sinners who really should have been grown up enough not to get into a fight that looked like something we'd refereed earlier in the day between OUR CHILDREN!

"Mom! He won't let me butter my own bread."

"She's doing it all wrong!"

"I know how to butter bread."

"She's not doing it right."

My Way. His Way. His Way. Your Way.

Really, the bread and butter fight made more sense, if only a little. (Who doesn't enjoy a nice clean, unplundered-by-the-plastic-knife-of-a-five-year-old tub o'butter? I fear I'll never know what that looks like!)

Later I wondered why oh WHY had I not just let it alone. Why did I need to even care which button my Man pressed on his very own phone? WHY did I persist way beyond the point of reason? Next time I'll do it better. Next time I'll just let it be even if I possess the very assistance he needs, I'll let him figure all of these new apps and screens and updates and bells and whistles out for himself. It is the best way to learn things...

Tonight the scene on our couch began to repeat itself...except it was no longer Wednesday night, it was Saturday night and we were not seated on the couch, we were at the table in the dining room working. OK, one of us was working. The other of us was trying not to get caught taking pictures.

"Ahhhhhhhkkkkkgggggg!" Click, click, snap, clop.

"What's wrong?"

With headphones in ears, "this sermon I'm listening to won't work." Clack, click, clop.