We’re currently renovating our back garden. It’s a large project that’s taking up most of every weekend but it’s all fun and Ben and I are loving every minute and not arguing at all. Ok, some of that might be a lie, and it’s not the part about it taking up every weekend..
Of course, I am completely rational and none of the arguing is my fault. I just have a very particular way I think the world should work – namely, I picture something in my head, then it should happen…and I’m not massively keen on hearing about any obstacles in the way. I’m also pretty great at shooting down Ben’s ideas, and then not admitting it when they work. Usually it goes something like:
Ben: I think we should do it like this…
Me: No, that’s stupid. It has to be done like this.
Ben: I think my way will work. Why don’t we just try…
Me: NO MY WAY IS THE WAY IT WILL WORK.
Me: OK, DO IT YOUR WAY, JUST GIVE IT A TRY AND WE’LL SEE WHO’S RIGHT! THEN WE’LL DO IT MY WAY WHEN IT DOESN’T WORK. GO-ON…OFF YOU GO! JUST TRY IT!!
*Does it his way and it dawns on me that this is the only way it possibly could work. In my head I mutter “shit, shit, shit” but outwardly my mouth says “well…I guess we can work with that.”*
Last weekend we planted 25 standard roses. We live in the hills and the ground is made up of areas of giant rocks lurking under the surface and other rocky bits pretending to be soil. Because I’d bought the roses in a frenzy of “Arrggg the season is almost over, I need to order them NOW and I don’t know how many I need!” I had bought two too many (a genuine miracle, because usually I would have bought about triple the amount of whatever it was we needed “just in case”). So we’d planted the ones we intended to plant and then I had to decide where the two remaining roses were going to go. As you can imagine, that went off without a hitch. There MAY have been one episode that went like this:
Me: I want to plant these ones over there. See, there’s already pink over the other side because we’ve got the flamingos there, but we need some pink over here.
Ben: Why don’t we plant them behind the flamingos?
Me: OMFG did I not just say there was already pink over there? Are you even listening? DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND THE FLOW OF THE GARDEN?! (cue me making large, exaggerated movements with my hands to represent the “flow” of the garden, whatever that is)
Ben: Well I don’t think we can plant them where you want them.
Me: Well that’s where they’re going. You’re just being horrible deliberately because you hate my ideas.
Ben: I don’t hate your ideas, I’m just saying….
Me: NO. You know what? Don’t even worry about it.
Ben: Well, if you try and dig the hole yourself then..
Me: I WILL DIG THE HOLE. I DON’T EVEN NEED YOU! JUST FORGET IT! I WILL DO IT MYSELF!
Ben: Don’t be like that, I’m just trying to tell you there’s a big….
Me: *hysterically* NO, JUST DON’T EVEN SPEAK TO ME! I WILL DO IT MYSELF AND YOU CAN SEE IT LOOKS AWESOME AND APOLOGISE LATER!
I storm over to the planting spot, put my spade in the ground and jump on it. *clang* There is a rock the size of the lounge room just under the surface. I smash it in a few more times. *clang clang clang* Ben stands there just watching me.
Me: ACTUALLY, I’VE DECIDED I DON’T EVEN WANT THEM THERE ANYMORE.
Ben: Ok, where would you like to plant them?
Me: I think they would look nice over there.
Ben: Behind the flamingos?
Me: I think we need to be more respectful to each other when we’re doing this gardening thing. Especially you.
Me: You get in the bowl.
Damn it. I think I might owe the man some beer. And a roast dinner. And probably five tubes of superglue for my mouth.
We have managed to get one part finished in another area of the yard. This part was for the dog. Mostly we just took turns yelling at the dog for pooping on the grass as we were trying to lay it.