Monday, October 19, 2009

Anatomy of a Fight


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.


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."