Matthew and I have been married for almost eight years now, come July. We've been together for nine. During all that time together I've always been amazed just how well we get along. When I tell people we don't really fight (no, really!) I always have to come up with some sort of reason why before they'll believe me. Sometimes I will say we just don't have that kind of personality. He is super laid back and I am so easy to get along with and will do whatever you ask of me...Errr, make that I'm a stubborn little turd and he lets me have my way a lot! But the truth is, we just go together...like peas and carrots! Except I don't like peas. Like peanut butter and jelly...which I don't like either. Hum...
Coffee and cream?
Doritos and Mountain Dew? Aw yes!
Where was I going with this?
So after all this time together I think we've encountered our first "dealbreaker". You know one of those arguments for which there can be no compromise? It started last night: I was sitting on the ottoman in front of the TV with my hair straightener fighting with my crazy hair to get it looking nice for my mom's group brunch today. (Wait, yes, I straighten my hair sitting in front of the TV, who wants to go stand in front of a mirror for 30 minutes?) Anyway, Matthew had been reading to the kids before bed, but he came out just as I was finishing up. He sat on the couch behind me, and didn't complain about my big head blocking the TV. I picked up my can of handy hair spray and doused my next layer of hair (I like it to sizzle, you know.) Cue Matthew: *cough* *gag* *dies* "I think I'm allergic to hairspray!" Me: "WHAAAAT?"
Dealbreaker y'all.
Of course, I was nice, for once, and laid off on the hairspray. Though I did jokingly weigh the options, "My husband or great hair, my husband or great hair?" And of course, this morning I had to re-do the whole top portion of my hair that didn't get sprayed. Boo. I guess from now on I'm confined to the bathroom while I do my hair.
