We're discussing our upcoming travel plans: his trip to Chicago, my trip to D.C. and Maryland.

"I think I can make that party we were discussing," he remarks. "As long as I get an early flight on my way back."

I can't believe I'm hearing this. If he has extra time that day, he should be seeing his relatives in Chicago—not my friends in L.A. Sometimes he's so self-sacrificing, I just want to punch him.

"No," I reply. "That's stu . . . I wonder if it might be wiser to see these people at a different time, so you can rest up from your trip. You know: not go right from travel to a social engagement."

Marriage is all about compromise: he knows I'm trying to protect him from overreaching as he trains for his next athletic event. So he pretends not to notice that I almost called him "stupid," supposedly for his own good. I mean, I may be a shrew, but I'm a particularly well-meaning one.

I sometimes wonder if the entire male population of the planet got together and bribed Attila the Hub into marrying me, to keep them from falling into that trap.

That would be cool. It would mean we have money stashed away somewhere.

Posted by: Attila Girl at 01:01 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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