One time I asked Dave what he missed about being single and he said nothing.
Which is a total load of bull.
Or maybe it’s not, because when Dave was single he pretty much worked all the time and didn’t really live it up, but you know, I still don’t entirely buy it. I am extremely happy in my non-single state, but I definitely miss things about being single.
Like getting to do whatever you want whenever you want. Getting to read a book all day Saturday if that’s what you felt. Getting to take a drive to the beach on a whim. Getting to go to happy hour with your co-workers and then wind up dancing the night away without having to phone home.
Getting to order a pizza when you want to instead of having to negotiate dinner plans with anyone else.
When you’re single, you don’t have to make compromises all the god damn time. You get to be totally and completely selfish. And sometimes I miss that.
Like a couple days ago I had been thinking about pizza for dinner all day. I had been extremely virtuous for lunch with my measly turkey sandwich and stupid carrots that never fill you up and nectarine. Hence I was starving by the time I left work. Starving for pizza.
So I was also a little bit cranky when Dave called me as I got on the bus to see what I wanted for dinner.
“I want pizza.”
“I don’t want pizza. How about something else?” he asked totally reasonably, but I was not in a reasonable mood.
“You never want pizza!” (This is true.)
“Well, I just don’t want your stupid cheeseless meatless pizza.” (This is because Dave is the stupid one because cheeseless, meatless pizza is delicious. I swear.)
“You never let me have what I want for dinner!” (This is sometimes true. To whit: the day before Dave refused to let me eat Swedish Fish and sorbet for dinner.)
“That’s not true.” (Also sometimes true.) “Sometimes you veto what I want and sometimes I veto what you want.” (The latter happens more often than the former.)
“Well I want pizza.”
“How about Vietnamese.”
“No, pizza. You can have leftover chicken.”
This upset Dave because he believes very strongly in doing things as a FAMILY. Even if doing things as a family means eating the same food in front of the TV while only vaguely interacting with each other. (Doing things as a FAMILY is also Dave’s favorite way to make me do his errands with him. This results in me doing my errands on my own and then me and Dave doing Dave’s errands as FAMILY ERRANDS.)
So it was a key moment. Do I surrender and make him happy? Or do I refuse to compromise, Member of Congress-style?
Reader, I ordered the pizza.
And you know what? It was delicious.
And that’s the moral of the story. Because sometimes lack of compromise gets you neither entitlement nor tax reform and instead gets you some dreck no one wanted in the first place. But SOMETIMES lack of compromise gets you pizza and Prosecco. And I suppose the key to any healthy marriage (or polity) is figuring out which time is which.