Ever heard of ‘couple speak’ or I guess maybe a couple’s ‘language of love’?! T & I over the last almost 6 years have perfected communication on all of the somewhat minor things, of course there are still duelling battles over major aspects of communication.
For instance I have communicated to T that underwear/clothing/towels etc on the bedroom floor do not put me at ease, nor make me relax, which is the point of the bedroom. So when I see that T has left items on the floor I feel that he is communicating with me that he does not want a relaxed wife. End result - he pulls back the covers at the end of the day to find his dirty clothes piled on his side of the bed and underwear on his pillow (I’m nice like that). I’ve also communicated a new rule (new rules are created in my house daily mostly by T) that if clothing is not in the hamper it is not washed. I haven’t washed T’s clothes this year, and you can’t see the floor in his closet. I solve that eye sore by closing the door.
I’m not so much a clean freak as Bree Van de Kamp on Desperate Housewives, but I have my days.
Now, the minor parts of communication T & I have down pat.
We’ll be out somewhere and he’ll start walking funny, one glance from me and he’ll say “IBS”. I know what you’re thinking - irritable bowel syndrome. Luckily neither of us suffers from that. What he’s telling me is “Itchy bum syndrome”. Until he can get somewhere to politely itch he walks like he’s bee probed. So to stave off embarrassment I’ll drop what I’m doing and search out a less public place.
For me, my stomach can turn at any time anywhere for no reason at all. I don’t have a clue what triggers it, but it’s not a good time. May be a sign of old age I guess, but definitely not a cool one. The stomach will flip, I’ll get super-hot and go pale and T will look at me and I’ll say “P or P” and he knows to help out immediately. P or P means poop or puke. One of the two or both inevitably has to happen VERY soon. He also knows how much I dislike public washrooms so he’ll take crazy driving measures if he has to (usually he drives like a REALLY old man) to get me home.
Anyone else have any weird ‘languages of love’ or are T & I just odd. It’s ok if we are; life is more interesting that way.
Just a tip for T - IBS could be solved by WMT (Wiping More Thoroughly) :)
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