2001-03-06
Dear Diary:

����When Paul and I married back over 26 years ago, there were some folks that said it wouldn't last, eh. Everyone figured it would be hand soap and toothpaste caps that would do us in.

����Yes, I am a "gimme a new bar" woman married to a "save the sliver" man. As if that wasn't enough, I had the unfortunate habit of losing the toothpaste cap down the sink. Yet despite these stunning problems, somehow we have made it work.

����Sure, the spousal unit and I had lots of fights about the usual things that can torpedo a relationship--differences about sex, money, religion, kids, and the position the toilet seat should be left in after peeing.

.:cough:. DOWN .:cough:.

����These weighty issues and how to deal with them have been widely discussed in the media. This openness has helped people realize they are not alone and to benefit from the experience of others when dealing with these thorny questions.

����But one thing that I feel has NEVER received the attention it deserves is the vexing question of hand soap.

����In the hopes that I can help at least one other couple bridge their differences, I have decided to share my hard won insights into this matter.

Ladies, there are some things you just ain't gonna change.  So before you hook up with someone, take a close look at them, 'kay?����My spousal unit, for reasons he has trouble articulating, cannot bear to throw out soap slivers. Here is what greeted me this morning when I entered the bathroom:

����Now normally I step in long before the situation gets this extreme, but I decided for old times' sake to see just how far Paul would go with a sliver of soap. I broke before he did, and unwrapped a new bar right after this picture was taken.

����There was a time when I would throw these slivers out and we would have a fight about it. My husband, who (like me) grew up in a household where there wasn't much money, really hates waste.

����It took me a long time to understand it wasn't really about soap at all, it was about a past I can't change.

Compromise.  Nothing harder, eh?����It was my stepmother (who grew up during The Depression and hated waste as much as Paul does) who inadvertently showed me the solution. When her soap got to sliver stage she would wet one side, wet a new bar, and join them together. The sliver would melt into the new bar and voil� problem solved.

����Compromise. Sometimes it's all in finding the compromise.

����Oh and the other chasm, the toothpaste cap problem?

����No compromise was possible there--technology saved my clumsy butt. Fortunately, manufacturers came out with flip top lids for toothpaste tubes and the marriage was saved.

����If they hadn't?

����There are some thoughts just too dark to contemplate, eh.

--Marn

Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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