I HATE YOU TOO

I HATE YOU TOO

I have mentioned in several posts that Mrs. Cranky and I have not had a fight or an argument in over three years.  A fly on the wall would dispute this assertion. 

The simplest statement or slip up is liable to elicit a “Fuck You!” from Mrs. Cranky.  I am often called a jerk.  “I hate you” is a common rebuttal to any discussion or comment I may make.

“Fuck you too” or “I hate you right back” are retorts not left out of my arsenal. 

“Then”, you ask, “How can you claim you never fight with your wife?”  The answer is simple.  These nasty little conversations are not out of anger or hate.  Mrs. Cranky will tell me to go fuck myself, and I will respond “Right back attcha” because we can.

We were both in marriages where such comments would bring severe repercussions.  Mrs. C once used the F word in her marriage and the response apparently was painful and severe.  I never dared to speak to my ex with anything approaching aggressive language; the venom would have come back at me in a torrent I would not have been able to survive.  I had to bite my tongue if I wanted to avoid the head spinning green sputum “Exorcist” like violence my ex was capable of delivering.

Fifteen plus years of suppressing “I hate you” and “Go fuck yourself” have made the ability to now say these things cathartic.  Pent up anger needs release even if it is not real.

A typical discussion at the Cranky house might go like this:

“Where is my breakfast in bed?”

“It’s downstairs in the fridge where it is every morning…Jerk!”

“Some wife you are!  I hate you!”

“Fuck you and your breakfast too!”

“Fuck you too!  I hate you!”

“I hate you right back!”

“Jerk!”

“Bitch!”

“…Ah…was that good for you?”

“Yea, that was great, I always wanted to do that.”

“Me too.  You want anything while I’m downstairs?”

“Juice would be nice.”

“You got it.  Oh, and I hate you.”

“I hate you too.”