Monday, October 19, 2009

Anatomy of a Fight

Note:

I become unreasonable when I am hungry. Low blood sugar turns me into a raving lunatic with anger management issues and tendencies towards violence. I know this. I try to regulate the anger. It doesn’t work. I need to eat regularly. You’d think after 7 years, the mister would pick up on this, but he can be a tiny bit dense.


Me: Wow, I’m hungry. Can we stop and pick something up to eat?

The mister: Sure. I just need to stop by Home Depot, the auto-parts store, the grocery store, Target, the post office, the mall, Walgreens, and my parents’ house.

Me: Um, okay. Can we maybe stop before we get started on that?

Him: Nah, it won’t take long.

Me: concerned silence.


45 minutes pass. My stomach is gnawing on my spine and my mood has dropped a bit. We are only on stop 3.


Me: Listen, I’m really hungry, can we please stop?

Him: I’m almost done.


It’s been another half hour since our last conversation. My stomach is audibly growling and I’m beginning to get the low-blood-sugar-shakes. My mood could now best be classified as irate with a side of irrational.


Me: I am HUNGRY. Stop now and find me a snack.

Him: One more stop.


Twenty minutes pass. We are still dicking around in the aisles of Fleet Farm. I am furious and barely coherent.


Me: FOOD. NOW. Or I will gnaw off your fucking arm.

Him: Um, okay. What do you want? Burger? Pizza? Pasta?


I do not want choices at this point. Choices will only fuel the rage. I can’t think clearly enough to pick a restaurant. The best I can be counted on to do is restrain myself from physically attacking a waitress when she brings the bread basket.


Me: I don’t care.

Him: But you’re so hungry, what do you want?

Me: I. Do. Not. Care. I just want food.

Him: But…

Me: snarl

Him: Jeez, there’s no reason to be so angry.


The moment I knew he had truly figured it out was this weekend, when my mood plummeted and I began commenting on how hungry I was. The mister got it and after just a few moments of my bad attitude, pulled into a parking lot, scored us a table for two, and asked for some chips and salsa to be brought out right away.

3 comments:

NGS said...

My husband learned the hard way about my food issues when we were dating. So this kind of thing just doesn't happen. If I even mention for a brief second that I might be hungry, he pulls into a gas station for me to get something to eat. I have trained him well!!

zarah said...

My husband is exactly like that! (except he never mentions that he needs to eat... grrrr.) I started carrying peanut butter crackers in my purse AND my glove box, just in case.

Pickles and Dimes said...

"Food. Now. Or I will gnaw off your fucking arm."

HAHAHHAHHA. We are twins! I am the SAME way. My mood will plummet from "shiny-happy-unicorny" to "I will stab you in the EYE if we don't eat now."