Jumping Incident
My patience began running thin. Normally Tricia has more common sense than anyone I know, but this situation seemed to be deteriorating. Tricia remained on the couch, refusing to do anything for herself.
In exasperation I exclaimed, “Nothing will satisfy you!” Getting no response, I added, “You won’t be happy until everybody’s jumping up and down.”
Tricia sat there, arms folded defiantly, refusing to budge.
With a patient appeal to reason failing, I resorted to theatrics. I began jumping in the air as high as possible, landing on the floor each time with a dramatic thud.
“There! Is that what you want?” I cried desperately. “See! I’m jumping up and down.”
Our sons James (14) and Karl (11) had been hiding out around the corner. Concluding that no real fight was in progress, they now appeared. They started jumping up and down, too, knowing that their mother would not be chasing after them any time soon.
Tricia still refused to stand up! For one perfect moment the whole family performed flawlessly in the theater of the absurd.
Tricia snapped at me, “Oh stop that childishness! You’re making a fool of yourself.”
Success! We had finally reached a point of agreement. Thereupon, I retired from the room, muttering something like, “high-on-her-horse, smarty-pants, too-smart-for-her-own-good.” Words like that.
Having lost this battle, I returned to my work quarters to sulk and plot revenge...
What fool’s errand would she send us on next?
Our household lived a state of siege until Tricia’s anxiety attack spent itself. No amount of special attention was humanly possible for her.
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