Wednesday, March 23, 2011

He Dropped a Bomb on Me, Baby

“I’m worried that this is going to cut into your jiu jitsu,” Husband said last night. He was talking about his new responsibility—Assistant Little League Coach for 8-Year Old’s team
“Uh-huh,” I replied rather absently. Sure, some Saturday games. I get it. Sometimes weekends aren’t made for jiu jitsu. You’ve got to show up for the family, too. Besides, lately a lot of things have encroached on my Saturday class. One more thing. Ho-hum.
“Really,” he said. “I think it might when we have practices and such.”
“Wait a minute. . . .” Was he talking about my classes during the week? I think he was. “Do you mean Monday–Wednesday?”
“Yes,” he said with some agita. “I mean, I don’t think I can take 4-Year Old to practice with us.”
“Why not?”
 “Balls will be flying; it will be dangerous for him. You don’t know.”
“It’s Little League. He’ll have a great time coming to practice! Give him a job; keep him out of the way.”
“What if he runs into the street?”
 “You’re going to be on a huge field.”
“It’s surrounded by streets. People have to get to the field. There have to be streets.”
“A four-year old on a huge playing field with swings and a playscape and balls and sports equipment around. You think he’s going to run into the street?”
“It could happen.”
“I don’t think so.”
 “What if I’m throwing pitches to the kids and he runs into the street? Huh? I have a responsibility!”
“Honey, you’re the Assistant Coach. I think you can stop pitching for a minute to save your son’s life.”
“I’m just saying, you may have to not go to jiu jitsu.”
I stamp my foot. “You are going to get such a flaming blog post!”
“No, I’m not. That is not how we work things out.”
“It is now!” I spy a rug burn on his elbow. Husband indulged me on Sunday. He let me show him my grapple skills. Afterward, there was much bemoaning: “You do know I have arthritis in my lower back?” “I really don’t like doing that.” “That’s not fun for me at all!” And then the next day when the soreness kicked in, “I can’t do that with you anymore.”
“I bob my head in the direction of his rug burn. “Is that from me?”
“Yes.”
“See? That’s how we work things out now!”

[This post dedicated to Georgette, and women with non-grappling husbands everywhere.]

 post scriptum
In Husband’s defense:
Husband testified in front of the state legislature on Monday. He was supposed to go at 2:00 PM, but by 6:00, he still had not been called. He phoned home. “I’ll be home in time for you to go to jiu jitsu—I promise.” He asked the folks if there was anyway he could go ahead of time. “My wife has an engagement,” he said. Unfortunately, the answer was no. He made it home in time and I got to class.
This afternoon he proudly showed me the video of his testimony. I noticed he stumbled over the word “judiciary.”
“Honey, were you about to say ‘jiu jitsu to the state legislature?”
“Um, yes, but I caught myself!”

7 comments:

  1. hahaha!! oh man. I love your posts. They often make me chuckle. Sooo entertaining!! =)

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  2. It's good to know my life is amusing to someone! :0

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  3. That jiu-diciary jitsu slip up was priceless...

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  4. I know, right? It was more like, "jiu-jitsary." No one else seemed to notice. I'd share the clip, but then my anonymity would be at stake!

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  5. HAHAHA.... *that's* what we mean by conflict resolution, baby!

    Though in my hub's defense, he does train jiu jitsu. He's a blue belt at a different academy in town, though he does not compete. And he's not obsessed. :)

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  6. I did not know that! Thanks for the update. : )

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