Here is what they say: there comes a time in every young married couple’s life when their eyes meet over the breakfast table and they simultaneously realize the cold, hard truth: the honeymoon is over.
While I can’t speak for everyone, I can say that this definitely happened to us.
We were traveling blissfully along our newly-merged and flower strewn pathway when suddenly a brick wall sprung up out of nowhere and WHAM, we hit it.
And this despite the fact that before our wedding, I swore up and down and sideways that such trauma would never characterize our glorious and long-anticipated union.
Hah. Hahahahahaha. HAH.
Oh, how young and naive I was then!
You see, dear readers, our honeymoon ended almost before it even began: the awful, horrible, cursed, stuff-of-nightmares day I discovered that Tim doesn’t like mint chocolate chip ice cream.
I almost can’t even talk about it. It was awful. I thought we were going to have to, you know…kill each other (since the D-I-V-O-R-C-E word isn’t an option for us).
All my girlhood dreams of a long and happy life tumbled to the dust.
All my most preciously treasured visions of my handsome hero and I walking hand-in-hand into our endless sunset of besotted love and perfectly-agreed bliss suddenly withered into miles upon miles of dry and barren desert baked by the endless and drought-inducing heat of the very hot sun.
All of the extensive reserves of wifely love and self-sacrifice and the 258% I was already pouring into our marriage to make it work in the first week of its existence suddenly paled in comparison to what was now being asked of me.
I might have even cried.
The worst part of the whole thing was Tim’s appalling lack of sympathy. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” he had the gall to tell me to my tear-streaked face. “It’s not like it’s the end of the world.”
But he was wrong, oh-so-wrong, for mint-chocolate-chip ice cream IS my world.
He, of all people, should understand this, I raged within myself, for isn’t it he, of all people, who becomes increasingly agitated and perturbed and unhinged and unreasonable as the bottom of the last carton of his beloved Vanilla Bean is neared?!
And the really worst part of the whole thing is how it fit into what I had expected. See, if I’d expected to have to give up my love for mint-chocolate-chip ice cream on June 20,2009, I probably would have been able to summon up my courage and write it into the wedding vows. But in reality, I expected exactly the opposite. Before we got married, here is what I knew without a doubt: my husband-t0-be loved ice-cream with a singular passion unlike any I’d ever known. I also knew without a doubt that mint-chocolate-chip was the best ice cream alive, and since I simply couldn’t imagine even the remote possibility that he might not agree, I closely associated the thought of my pending marriage with visions of shared nightly bowls overflowing with cold, rich, and minty-chocolate cream.
Yes, dear readers, I confess that in my ignorance I actually equated marriage pretty much with heaven on earth.
Oh, the irony. The tragic, tragic irony.
I’ve since become convinced that hell will have miles of cartons of icecream…in one flavor and one flavor only.
Just like our freezer.
In as calm a manner as humanly possible, I shared a small bit of my violent and wrought emotions with my unsuspecting husband.
“Oh,” he told me reassuringly, not seeming to grasp the depth nor significance of my feelings on the matter. “Don’t worry about that.”
I gaped at him. Don’t worry?! DON’T WORRY?!?!?!?!?!
“We’ll just start keeping two open cartons of ice cream in the freezer,” he continued. “–one for me and one for you.”
What a novel thought.
But even I had to admit it had merit, and it might be just the key to saving the hopeless trainwreck our marriage had become.
So that’s what we’ve done ever since, and we haven’t even had to kill each other yet.
(Thank heavens Pop likes both mint-chocolate AND vanilla bean. I’m not sure our freezer could handle three opened cartons of frozen dairy product bliss.)
((Of course, he likes mint-chocolate the best.))
(((What a sensible man he is.)))