That Damn Remote

Months ago, my wife and I had a heated argument over the most ridiculous thing in the world. Our remote for our television disappeared, as they tend to do, which started a domino of exhausted complaints and snarls on both our parts. We checked the recliner cushions, under the sofa, we even checked the damn cat bed at one point. After at least 30 minutes of sprawling around like wild animals, nearly tearing the place up like it too, I sat down and bared our loss. “Let’s just give it a rest and return to this later. I’m sure it’ll show up” I suggested.

My bitter wife expressed the most sour disappointing look I’ve ever seen. A look an old fashion father would give after learning his son was gay while subsequently sucking a juicy lemon. “Way to give up, Gerard! That’s a new one”.

I returned with a sour face of my own, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means! You always do this and it’s why nothing ever gets done. I’d bet you the freaking house we’ll end up just buying a new remote knowing you!”

“You’re overreacting again. For Christ's sake it’s just a remote, Kim. It’ll turn up soon enough and we’ll both look stupid for making such a big deal about it”.

Kim threw her hands up in disgust before resting them firmly on her hips as if getting comfortable for one of her rants. “Look, I’ll admit, the remote is a stupid thing. But this isn’t just about the remote at this point. Gerard, this last month you have failed to get the car cleaned, to buy Stavros’ birthday gift and even small things like taking out the trash or feeding the cat. I’m getting pissed that you’ve being so lazy lately”

I sighed, knowing that was just a small part of her complaints. “First of all, I’ve been working overtime this week, second of all the car is nearly spotless and third of all, you’re just as lazy as me half the time. Those girls nights of yours last hours upon end and all you do is talk about stupid, mind-numbing stuff like work gossip and rom coms. I mean you guys sound like you came right out of desperate housewives in there. Meanwhile our kids rely on me and me alone to see them put to sleep while they wonder why mommy isn’t there to tell them a story or even kiss them goodnight”

“You volunteered for that responsibility, thank you very much!” she yipped like a dog far too loud for how small it was, “When we got married we agreed to our responsibilities, I’m not good with kids and you know that, so you take care of teaching them and all that while I take care of keeping them busy and entertained. I’m grateful that you got that part of your job down, but tell me, why can’t you feed the animal and take the trash out when you can?!”

At that point our argument had derailed in directions they hadn’t in months if not years. I hate doing that with her but she always made it so difficult to reason. “Maybe you should consider trying. Every think of that? Kids aren’t exactly a walk in the park to deal with but once you put the effort in you can at least know how to talk to them like a parent should. This is a team effort so why do we have to separate ourselves like this?”

“Oh so now you're making this about me being a bad parent?” Kim’s voice peaks with genuine shock, “This is about you being sloppy and lazy over simple little things! I do my part so why can’t you do yours? I hate having to argue like this as much as you do, but if I don’t you’ll just keep this shit up. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if this kept happening for months to come knowing you”.

Taken aback by such a spontaneous situation I sit myself down on our couch. I rest my face into my palms and take a deep, necessary breath. “I don’t know what your problem is, Kim. But I’m not in the mood to argue any more. Can we please just end this and move on with our night. I’ll sleep on the fucking couch if you want just please. I hope the kids didn’t hear us”

“I hope the kids did!” she shouted, “They need to know how much of a lazy piece of shit their father is. Maybe then they’ll start talking some sense into you too”

“Just like how they need to know their mother is too much of a coward to love them like she should?! Let’s sleep this off, Kim. We can talk about this tomorrow. And not yell. Talk”

Kim began making her way towards the stairs, dimly lit by a nightlight in the corner. Her eyes looked as tired as I felt. I knew she hated to argue as much as I did, which still confuses me as to why she starts these things in the first place. I looked away while I could to make our departure less awkward. I found myself a cozy blanket to shelter myself under for the night and fell into an unsettling slumber accompanied by a dream of our life before the kids. Before getting married. Just two young idiots roaming the country for a nice simple life to share. I imagined how happy we were. How comforting and fulfilled we felt when we embraced. A fairly distant memory I find myself missing more often than I feel I should.

The morning finally came after my near endless depressing void of a dream. I quickly folded the blanket and put it back where it belonged so as to not tempt any questions from our very observant boys. The day went by silently and almost agonizing as it was both a weekend and one of my days off. My wife and I didn’t share a single word throughout the day. We hardly even saw each other. Halfway through it, I noticed the kitchen trash can was overfilling. I thought back on Kim’s words from the night prior and almost ignored it out of spite. But I decided to do the hygenic thing and deal with it before it became a bigger problem. A part of me felt great for doing something productive, however a different side of me felt guilt for doing it after our confrontation. It was almost as if I only did it because of the corner I was backed into. I felt humiliated and disheartened. Even so, I continued to do small things around the house such as sweeping the bathroom floors and wiping down the living room coffee table. I hardly felt any better after each courtesy.

Trying to keep a level head about it, I made my way through the upstairs hall where our bedrooms are to check on our boys. Each passing room waited emptily as I creeped through. That was until I reached the room at the very end, Stavros’ room. I peaked in, slowly and cautiously after hearing soft words and giggles. Kim was sitting on Stravros’ bed, between our sons, talking about possible birthday plans and movies they might want to go see. A warm light thumped in my chest at the sight of it. I hadn’t seen my family so close since the boys were toddlers. Kim had a smile far outreaching any she'd ever had. I no longer felt anything negative doing those chores. I think the two of us grew a little bit from our heated argument.

Since then, our arguments have been far less common, which isn’t to say they don’t exist, but I’m happy to say our marriage has inched a little closer to how we always envisioned it. Kim has spent much more alone time with the boys and I now have a daily routine for small chores around the house.

Funny thing is, the only reason I brought this whole thing up is because I just found that damn remote.