Frosted Animal Cookies Would Make The Crow Taste Better

Things went a little haywire in the Modern household tonight.  The confusing thing about relationships is how a simple, ordinary but happy marriage turns into analyizing the meaning, agenda, motive and/or baggage behind each word, action event etc...  At the beginning there are some games and everyone is on their "please love me" best behavior.  A wedding, a honeymoon then little by little we settle in to the real honesty.  That incredible feeling that you want to share everything, intimacy.  But before you know it, things can revert back to the games, agendas and oh yes, the baggage. 

What I feel all tangled up in tonight is the ever living baggage.  No spoken word can be taken at face value, no act, be it malicious or good intentioned, can be seen without first filtering it through the crap buffer.  The crap buffer is the kind of like the x-ray machine we send our carry-on luggage through at the airport.  This machine looks for what people try to hide, it was designed to detect crap.  So is the crap buffer in the relationship brain.  Internet, sometimes a hair dryer is actually a hair dryer.  For drying hair.  That's wet.  And requires drying.  Plain. Simple.  And, sometimes a hair dryer is a loaded weapon.  I cannot say with any scientific certainty what the good hair dryer to bad hair dryer ratio is exactly.  I imagine the actual drying of hair might slightly out number of times a hair dryer has been determined to in fact be loaded.  So the crap buffer actually reassigns the definition or meaning of the words it is buffering.  You might say it literally changes the purpose of the hair dryer.  Convincing the opposing team that the Game is On, and you better be prepared to bring it and bring it hard. 

When this all started there was only one team, the family.  But good intentions fail, they may have been destined to anyway, and words fly and then the crap buffer hits the fan.  Or hair dryer.  I have lost track of all my metaphors.  Obviously this comes from a real place for me, and is a little less story telling, and a little more about purging runaway thoughts.  But I think the long winded point I am driving at is this:  How does a worthy marriage navigate around all the baggage and return to a point when words and actions do not require approval from the surgeon general?  When do we let go of hurt feelings, broken promises, and past mistakes?  How does one truly reach that moment when you choose to only look forward?  No more looking over our shoulders for past events that can be used as ammunition to make a point, or to win a battle?  What is the exit "stategery" for the battle of hard headed, stubborn and selfish married people?  When is sorry, sorry enough? 

Does anyone else hear Sarah Jessica Parker's voice in their head right now?  If someone were narrating my life, I would not mess around, I would call out the big guns.

Internet, I cannot answer any of these questions.  I feel helpless and ashamed and lost.  Also the afore mentioned frosted animal cookies (thus the blog post category) are gone.  And the spoonful of sugar that was supposed to help me choke down the humility is predictably unavailable.  I am an emotional eater.  The chicken we had dinner was awesome, as to be expected cause Modern Hubby is a force to be reckoned with in the kitchen.  But the inclination to OD on sugar has been tragically cut short. 

Have I ever mentioned the stupid buffer?  Maybe tomorrow.