When your partner lets you down once more over something trivial.
Recently, after stepping away from the computer, my partner, Mark, and I settled into bed. As we reminisced about amusing stories involving our kids, I attempted to coax him into giving me a foot massage. My feet were sore from a long evening in heels, and I was feeling quite desperate. I began playfully nudging his leg with my toes, hoping to elicit some sympathy. However, my attempts went unnoticed. Ultimately, I resorted to pleading, “Could you please just rub my feet? Pretty please, Mark?”
His response was less than encouraging. “No way, I’m not rubbing your feet,” he stated dismissively.
“Why not?” I whined. “You used to think my feet were cute. They really hurt, come on!”
“Well, they used to be cute,” he replied, hesitating. “They were… um, painted.”
“Imagine them red!” I shot back.
“Yeah, but they were cuter before. Just, um… different,” he stumbled. “You know, YOUNGER.”
I shot him a look that communicated just how wrong his statement was. “What do you mean? You’re implying they look old!”
“Look,” he continued defensively, “you’re, like, over a decade older than when we first met. Of course your feet have changed. Do you think your mother’s feet are adorable? As time goes on, feet tend to lose their charm. That’s just how it is.”
“No, Mark, I don’t agree with you.”
He could have pointed out that my feet were dry, rough, or in need of care. But old? OLD? For the record, they’re not! They might benefit from a good rub with some lotion, but they’re just thirty-one years old!
And that was the moment I decided I couldn’t let this slide.
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