Ashley and I have been married for 8 years. And during that 8 years we have perfected our battle skills to that of the Gladiators. Passive Aggressiveness is our battle sport of choice and we have been known to go days dancing around an issue like contestants on Dancing with the Stars.
I tell you that to tell you this.
One of our favorite past times these days is to read stories to Rinks. He is naturally brilliant (and I say that with no bias whatsoever) and he enjoys it as much as we do. His new favorite books are those of the parent specific kind called "Mommies are for Counting Stars" and "Daddies are for Catching Fireflies". Each of these books tells of things that Mommy does (Mommy tucks you in at night) or what Daddy does (Daddy helps you fly a kite). However, this week as Ashley and I were having a mild disagreement over who was supposed to clean the bathrooms (clearly it was him), these books took on a whole new theme as we got creative with our passive aggressiveness. I walked in on story time as Ashley is gently reading the Mommy book to Rinks. I listen at the door in tender admiration, until I hear Ashley say "Mommy is for bossing Daddy around like he is 12 and doesn't know what he is doing" and "Mommy is for nagging Daddy about cleaning the toilet when he told her 3 times that he would do it on Sunday."
I got to give it to him, he is a clever bastard, that is why I love him. But two can play this game. So the next night during Story Time I gently reach for the "Daddy" book as Rinks coos in excitment. Ashley eyes me suspiciously. I begin, "Daddies are for Catching Fireflies. Daddies are for helping build forts on summer nights. And Daddies are for being sore losers when he can't admit to Mommy that he was wrong in the first place. The End." Ashley just smiles and shakes his head.
Rinks eyes us apprehensively as if to say, "Somebody needs to tell me who is going to pay for my therapist bill. Geez."