So The Husband and I were invited to a party last night, a real party with the words “holiday attire” printed on the invitation. I mentioned the event to The Husband right when we received the invitation (a month ago), again as we got closer to the date (two weeks out), once more for good measure (last week), and then one final time (the night before). All of those times, he nodded and said, “Sounds great!” so I was under the impression he was listening.
The morning of the party, I casually said, “Won’t it be fun to go to the party tonight?” to which he replied, “What are you talking about?”
I did what I always do when he says something funny: I laughed. Silly guy! I am talking about the same party I have been talking about for a month! Remember, I lined up a sitter and everything?
The Husband was mad. “You never mentioned it. I don’t want to go to a party. Besides, I might have to work late.”
The MOV of 10 years ago would have been mad. How dare he forget a party I mentioned a dozen times? How dare he threaten not to go?
But having two children changes a person. I am a mellower, softer version of my former self. Things that used to bother me don’t bother me (as much) now. I just shrugged.
“Okay, Sweetie, that’s fine. You can stay home. But I’m going.”
That evening, he came home from work and took off his coat. He took one look at me and said, “Wow! You look fantastic! Why are you all dressed up?”
Seriously? I thought I was the one to forget and block things out, but clearly he was the new winner in the Selective Memory Championships.
He finally agreed to go (“How do we know these people again? Will they have beer or are they your wine friends?”), and it turns out we had a great time.
I can’t wait to remind The Husband about tonight’s party.
("My Only Vexation")