Ch 12 Primo buys crummy stuff for the house but it was a good deal

Me: What is all this crap?

Primo: It was a good deal. I'll have rebates.

Me: But what is this?

Primo: That's a mat to put in the bottom of the oven so the oven doesn't get all dirty.

Me: I don't cook stuff that overflows and it’s a self-cleaning oven.

Primo: It was a good deal.

Me: It doesn't matter if it's a good deal if we don't need it.

Primo: I'll have you know that that was $4.99 but is only 99 cents after rebate.

Ch 12 Sly and Doris didn’t like Primo's ex because she was a bad hostess and I think, “Pot! Meet kettle!”

Primo: My parents couldn't stand ex and they had some good reasons. They actually visited us a few times, and ex was a terrible hostess.

Me: Like what?

Primo: The house wouldn't be ready when they arrived, for example, and I had to do everything.

Me: Welllll – they are your parents, not hers. Who did the work when her family visited?

Primo: She did. But she wasn’t working. She had time.

Me: Were your mom and dad nice to her?

Primo: No. She knew they had told me not to marry her. And they never made any attempt to have a good relationship with her.

Me: Yeah, I’m having a hard time siding with your parents on this one. I wouldn’t have knocked myself out, either, if I had been in ex's situation. Did they complain to you that she didn't write to them?

Primo: They did not want contact with ex.

Me: They don't want contact with me, either. So why do they complain about me?

Primo: They want you to be better than ex, but they think you must not be better because you don't want contact with them. They get decide what the contact is, not you. You’re supposed to want contact with them regardless of what they want. You're supposed to earn their admiration and affection.

Me: But I don't want their admiration and affection. They don’t like how I eat bacon. There are no holds barred anymore.

Primo: I know. I just feel so sorry for my mom. You know what my dad is like. She needs someone to be nice to her.

Me: You’re right. And you do realize you are like the poster child for adult children of alcoholics.

Primo: I just want my poor mother to have more than one person in her life who is nice to her. It’s my dad who is the real problem.

Me: You could tell him to go to hell. That could work. I think they teach that at Al-Anon.

Primo: Maybe. No.

Ch 12 We argue about the silverware

Primo: You need to stack the silverware by category and size.

Me: I bought that separator thingy. They are already sorted by category. That is organized enough. But if you want to stack the utensils, go ahead. I don’t care. But I am not doing it your way because your way is stupid.

Primo: This is how it should be. You’re a slob for just tossing each item into its own slot without stacking.

Me: It takes too much time.

Primo: With your way, you have to look through all the spoons to find a big spoon or a little spoon. With my way, they are already separated.

Me: First, the most you would have to look through is half the items. Second, the total time it takes you to separate and stack separately and then to find what you want is way more time than it takes me to toss them and then look for what I want. You have to look at the total process, not just the discrete elements.

This discussion resolves nothing. But instead of fighting, we just pointedly each do it our way in front of the other. 

Ch 12 Sly and Doris think we are asking if the date is convenient for them, not that we are informing them of a fact that is immutable

We find a date that works for my sister and Pastor Gail, the pastor at Primo’s little Lutheran church, and Father Joe, the priest at my church.

Finding space is a little harder. Turns out you don’t throw a wedding on a dime, at least not a wedding at a church on a Saturday.

What the heck. We’ll do it on Friday instead. My church is not available on any of the dates that work for Jenny, but Primo’s is, so we settle on 2 p.m. on October 3 at his little Lutheran church.

I eavesdrop as he talks to Sly and Doris. I always try to imagine the other side of the conversation – what new thing have they found not to like about me?

I look at the dining room. No table in the dining room because there is no room for the table. The dining room is full of boxes. Where am I going to feed people if I don’t have a table?

Of course, the real answer to this question of “Where will people eat?” should be, “I guess they will take care of feeding themselves because this is a wedding, not a house party.” My mother has already tried to warn me, but, as usual, I ignore her. Ignoring her will probably also be,[1] as usual, to my peril.

Primo: We’ve picked a date.

Primo: October.

Primo: October third.

Primo: Yes, that’s about three months from now.

Primo: Yes I’m sure I want to do this.

Primo: I said I’m sure. I mean it. Why are you even asking me that? That is not relevant to this conversation.

See what I mean about wondering what on earth is being said on the other end of the phone?

Primo: I am not going to discuss this with you. Are you coming or not?

Primo: I can get you tickets with my frequent flier miles.

Primo: To San Antonio so you won’t have to change planes. I think the walking would be too much for mom.

Primo: No, you won’t have to rent a car. I’ll pick you up there.

Note how I do not make a snarky comment about Primo picking them up at the airport so they don’t have to rent a car.

OK. Note how I do not make a snarky comment to Sly and Doris about Primo picking them up at the airport so they don’t have to rent a car.

Primo: Yes, it will be more than an hour in the car. It’s up to you. Would you rather change planes in Atlanta or Chicago?

Primo: Yeah, that’s what I thought.

Primo: What do you mean, “wait?” I thought I would get them right away.

Primo: Can’t your cleaning lady feed them? I thought she loved the cats.

Primo: Then what about Stephanie? Or Jack?

Primo: OK. I’ll talk to you later.

He hangs up.

Primo: They need to see if they can find someone to watch the cats.

Me: Do they understand that you were telling them the date and not asking them if it works for them?

Primo: I think so.

Me: Do they know that their schedule is not really important here? That they are not the ones who have inflexible commitments? They are retired. They have no friends. They have no hobbies. There is nothing that they cannot schedule around.

Primo: I'm not sure they understood what I was telling them. They might think we're willing to change the date. We're not. I will call them back.

---

[1] See, “Oatmeal, the microwaving of.”

Ch 12 We set a date because now there is a financial benefit to getting married, unlike before, when we would have been married filing joint with two incomes

Me: I guess we need to get married.

Primo: Why the rush?

Me: None, really, except we will be better off with income taxes if we file as married. But only because I have no income now.

Primo: So by the end of the year.

Me: Yes. I talked to Jenny. Her schedule is made three months in advance. She has no free time until September, but we need to give her a date pretty soon.

Primo: What about your brother?

Me: Self-employed – can come whenever.

Primo: Your mom?

Me: Retired! Just like your mom and dad! There are no reasons they can’t come on the date we choose. My sister is the only one we need to check with. I’ll check with the church for some free dates, find out which of those work for Jenny, and fini.

Primo: What about Ted and Jack and Stephanie?

Me: I didn’t think we were inviting them. But if they want to come, fine, I guess, but I don’t think we should set the date with their schedules in mind. I mean, I would love for Stephanie and the kids to come, but I know they can’t. Stephanie already told me – the kids are back in school and she doesn’t have the money to come. 

Ch 12 I lose my job, which stinks, but I guess the timing could have been worse because at least I can get on Primo’s insurance as his domestic partner

So there is that. I just got laid off. Nice.

PS Being laid off stinks more than I can describe, so I won’t even try. But it is horrible. At least I got a very nice severance package and will be able to find another job. I feel really bad for the people who get laid off because the steel mill or the mine in their town closes and there is no other place to work. I am lucky.

PPS Now the question is do I look for a new job right away or do I wait until after the wedding? Primo thinks I should just wait until after the wedding – actually, he thinks I should take some time off, but he is an engineer who can find a new job in about two seconds. I am an English major and my job searches can take months.

PPS At least when we applied for the mortgage, I still had an income. Plus I had almost paid off my little house and had enough money from the sale of that for a 50% down payment of our new house.

Ch 12 We argue about corn on the cob

Me (eating corn on the cob)

Primo: You're not doing it right.

Me: What are you talking about?

Primo: Eating the corn.

Me: I am so.

Primo: No. You're supposed to do it like this. (Demonstrates eating typewriter style.)

Me: Nope. This is the right way. (Rotating.) You can break off the engagement over this if you want.

Ch 12 We argue about butter

You guys, I thought Primo and I already had enough things to argue about – politics, his parents, how leftovers should be put in the refrigerator (he thinks by food type, I think by container size and shape), whether he should be allowed to touch my bellybutton (no) – but I am discovering that when you share a house with someone, you find new things to argue about. I know it’s kind of off-topic[1] to talk about butter and corn on the cob, but I think it’s funny.

Me: Hey! Someone scraped off the top of this stick of butter!

Primo : It might have been me.

Me: But now it's not a full stick of butter! I can't use it for the cookies!

Primo : I needed butter for my corn.

Me: There are bits of butter in the fridge. You could have used those for your corn.

Primo : This is how we did it in my family.

Me: Yeah, well, your family does things wrong.

---

[1] Although really, if it’s my blog and I am writing, is anything off topic? The topic is what I decide it is, right?

Ch 12 Can you be engaged without an engagement ring? I don’t like rings – they highlight my short, stubby fingers and my short, stubby fingernails

Primo: Don’t you want an engagement ring?

Me: No. I don’t like wearing rings.

Primo: But – we are engaged.

Me: I guess. We just bought a house together and I wouldn’t do that if I weren’t going to marry you. But you have never officially proposed. We just kind of agreed we would get married.

Primo: Don’t we need a ring to make it official?

Me: Really? I would rather take a really nice trip to Paris than have a diamond.

Primo: We need to do something to make it official.

Me: You mean more than buy a house?

Primo: Yes.

Me: OK. You know what I want? I want a really nice trash can.

Primo: A trash can? Are you kidding?

Me: No! I hate your stupid trash can. I hate that I have to press a control on the top to open it and that it’s so short so I have to bend over and peeling onions into it is a pain in the neck. My trash can is old and I don’t want either one of them to move into the house with us.

Primo: Then what do you want?

Me: I want that nice tall stainless steel Simple Human one with a foot control for the lid.

Primo: A trash can.

Me: Yes.

Primo: Let me look. What?! It’s sixty dollars! For a trash can!

Me: You were willing to pay thousands of dollars for a ring that serves no practical purpose but won’t spend sixty dollars on a trash can?

Primo: Can I at least see if it goes on sale?

Me: Fine.

Ch 12 A guy kills his wife on their honeymoon, which makes me go, Hmmmm

Me: This guy is being charged with killing his wife during a scuba-diving trip on their honeymoon.

Primo: Wow.

Me: I wonder if they were in the middle of moving.

Ch 12 June We buy a house, I sell my house, Primo gives notice at his apartment

You guys, this process is so, so dull, yet so stressful. If you’ve been through it, you know.

If you haven’t, well, no need to bore you.

Just take as stipulated that these things are done and the reason I have not been posting about it is because it is a royal pain in the neck.

Ch 12 December Primo’s divorce is final and we can get married

Me: Don’t date a married man.

Jenny: Words to live by.

Me: I mean, don’t date one who is married technically but is divorcing. Or, if you do, stick to your promise that you will not sleep with him until the divorce is final.

Jenny: Ah. The moral question.

Me: That, plus he will have a lot more incentive to finalize the divorce. And maybe give you some leverage over dealing with his parents.

Jenny: That makes sense. So will it ever be final?

Me: Yes! It is final. It only took four years? Is that right? Something like that. So now we can get married.

Jenny: He proposed?

Me: No, I guess not. But we have been talking about this for a few years and when he got the papers yesterday, we realized that we could set a date. I am calling for your availability.

Jenny: Congratulations!

Ch 11 Primo doesn’t think anything weird happened

Me: That was awful! I cannot believe how mean your dad was to your mom!

Primo: What?

Me: Tonight! When your dad was yelling at your mom!

Primo: Oh, yeah. When I was a kid, I thought that kind of bullying was normal. That kind of yelling and intimidation happened all the time at our house. My dad has always been a bully and I thought that’s just what life was like. Even tonight, it seemed normal to me.

Ch 11 But then Sly makes Doris pay the price for my insolence

Doris: Primo, would you please turn off the TV and turn on the radio? There’s a concert on NPR that I want to hear. Sly, do you remember the time when we went to dinner and that concert with the Browns and the singer asked me to join her onstage to sing with her? Primo, this was shortly after you were born. We had mutual friends who had told the singer about me and she asked me to accompany her on stage! Me!

Sly: No honey. It was the Smiths.

Doris looks bewildered. Does it really matter if it was the Smiths or the Browns? This was decades ago. She soldiers on.

Doris: No, it was the Browns.

Sly: It was the Smiths!

The story Doris is telling is about the singing. That is the story I want to hear. That’s the story Primo wants to hear. That's the story she wants to tell.

But Sly can’t let go of the Smith/Brown dilemma.

Doris: No, it was the Browns. I remember, honey.

Sly: It was the Smiths! It was the Smiths!

Doris: Honey, why does it matter? I think it was the Browns, you think it was the Smiths. Let me finish the story, please.

Sly: It was the Smiths! How stupid are you? Did they have a “stupid” category on your report card when you were a little girl? If they did, you would have gotten an “A!”

Doris: Don’t you talk to me like that!

Sly: I’ll say what I please. Stupid. Probably because of your stupid parents.

I swear I am not making this stuff up. I am reporting, verbatim, what is happening.

Sly: Stupid parents, stupid daughter.

Doris (crying): Leave my parents out of it, you fucker!

My jaw drops. I had never in my life heard either of my parents cuss at each other. I never heard either of them use the “F” word – and my dad was a sailor before he was married. Not that my parents didn’t fight, but when they fought, they usually didn’t do it in front of us kids and I certainly never saw my dad reduce my mother to tears.

I watch the tears roll down Doris’ face. What am I supposed to do?

What is a 70 year old woman who is treated like this supposed to do?

Ch 11 I’m pretentious and so is Primo but Sly? He is humble

We are watching Jeopardy. I don’t want to watch TV with Sly and Doris. I want to be alone with a book because I have had way too much togetherness with them. Any togetherness with them is too much.

Sly: I’ve always found Alex Trebek to be arrogant.

I can’t resist. This is not an ass-kissing moment and I am flush from my pizelles and broccoli and five times negative five victories.

Me: Pot, meet kettle.

Oh yeah. I am poking the bear.

Primo snickers.

Doris gasps, then laughs for a second, stopping herself with a swift hand to the mouth. She whispers a warning to me, “You'll pay for this.”

Thirty seconds later, Sly, who has been silent since I spoke, turns to Primo and snapped, “You're pretentious. And so is your girlfriend.”

I stifle a laugh and a smart-aleck response. Boy did he tell me.

What. Ever. He can call me pretentious as much as he wants. Just the knowledge of my new power is enough.