Sean and I were in my bed, naked, propped up by many pillows (not the frilly kinds), laptops on our laps (doh!), trying to coordinate custody schedules so we could figure out how we’d spend the few time slots in the upcoming weeks that we were both free.
“Mia asked us to join her and Rex for dinner on the 16th,” I said.
“Huh, that’s when that band I told you about is in town. I was hoping we’d see them.”
“Oh, baby, I really want to see them, but we haven’t been ‘social’ in, like, forever and I told her we’d love to join them but that I’d have to confirm with you, which pretty much means I told her we’d be there. I mean …”
Even as the words came out, I gagged. No wonder why guys don’t understand women — I can barely understand myself!
But Sean, verbiage trouper that he is, jumped right in, and for the next few minutes, we went back and forth — dinner, concert, dinner, concert.
“Oh, no, no, no! You can’t pull that crap on me!”
“You said, ‘Yes dear!’ That is the worst thing you’ve ever said to me!”
“And, what’s wrong with ‘Yes dear’?”
“‘Yes dear’ is what unhappily married, hen-pecked men say so their bitchy nagging wives will shut up and leave them alone!”
He laughed. “Your theory has as many holes as a colander because, one, we’re not married, two, you’re not my wife and, three, I’m not unhappy or hen-pecked. However …”
Before he could get to whatever No. 4 was, I jumped on top of him and held his arms down, which made us both laugh, which somehow lead to me kissing his chest, which somehow lead to me kissing all sorts of places places as I slowly migrated south …
… And, on the 16th, we dined with Mia and Rex.
Now, that’s the kind of surrendered “yes dear” man I can handle!
But, really — what to do about “yes, dear”? It’s as deadly a word combination as “We need to talk” or “I really like you … as a friend.”
Is “yes dear” a passive-aggressive way of checking out or is it the key to a happy relationship?
I guess it depends.
Even in the best relationships, there are always power struggles — he wants one thing, she wants another, now what? As someone famous once said — or maybe it was just someone’s father — you’re either going to be happy or right; what do you want?
Wait — you mean I can’t have both?!?!
Compromise is part of being a couple; it’s part of life, actually — work, school, dating, friendships. You’re not going to get everything you want, so deal! It’s like parenting a teenager — pick your battles … carefully.
Still, if one person is “yes, dearing” more than the other, I’d say there’s a problem. I don’t always want to be the one who’s compromising; I’m totally OK with the compromising part — I probably do that too well — but there’s a line between that and doormat.
I just hate those two words together. I’ve never wanted to be the “dear” part of that equation, never wanted to be the one who held the power to the point that the man I love would feel that he had to agree with me.
Even if it was obvious that I was right!
Sometimes, I’ve just wanted my guy to care as much as I do. But here’s one thing I’ve learned: Men don’t always care about the same things women care about, and even if they do, it’s not always in the same way.
They seem to have no problem with things that matter to us. I’ve seen The Kid wear dirty underwear or socks for an extra day — or none at all — rather than do laundry. This is the beauty of having a son — it’s a petri dish of manhood! You get to see men as they form!
But, yes dear?
I’d rather jump on top of Sean, gently hold him down and start kissing …
What do you think about “yes dear”?