Wash War I
Michelle:
One evening after dinner was over and the dishes had been washed; I went to the sink to get a glass of water. I was shocked to find that the sink had not been rinsed out, and food particles were beginning to form small islands. I very intentionally and very breezily said, “Hey, next time you do the dishes, can you make sure to rinse the sink?”
Chris:
What I heard, “Hey, you did the dishes wrong.” How I responded, “Next time, I will leave the dishes for you to do since you always do them perfectly and therefore, we know the task will be completed to perfection.” As a side note here, I made no attempt to be breezy. In fact, I was intentionally NOT breezy!
Michelle:
When Chris snapped at me, I was angry. I thought I had approached the subject in a very light and non-critical way. In the moment, I had a choice to make. Do I engage or diffuse the situation? As I stood staring at my sink, I asked myself, “Is this a food island worth dying on?”
Chris:
When Michelle didn’t immediately respond, my initial thought was, “Ha, I won.” I imagined my internal self doing a little fist pump. But the longer she stood, silently staring at the sink, I got a little nervous. I began formulating my strategy by preparing answers to what I thought she might say.
Michelle:
I decided, ENGAGE and I responded, “You know, you’re right. I am pretty damn good at washing dishes. I would be happy to provide you a training so that you too could be highly successful in your dishwashing endeavors.” BOOM!
Chris:
In that moment, it hit me, my wife is a worthy opponent in this battle. If I responded that I didn’t need her damn training, the question would be, why didn’t I do it right in the first place? And, if I immediately backed down it could expose my weakness or be seen as a sign of retreat. I looked into my emotional artillery and launched my counter-attack. Small little biting comments that I knew would leave shrapnel behind.
Michelle:
I couldn’t believe that one request could start an entire war. The sound of our clock ticking in the kitchen, reminded me of a drummer marching into battle. I decided it might be safer to retreat and regroup rather than find out what other landmines might be buried beneath our wood floor. My strategic move, the silent treatment. I quietly walked out of the room.
Chris:
About an hour later, I knew a ceasefire was in order. I had been wrong to respond to Michelle in such a sarcastic way. I had immediately taken the defensive, making my wife the enemy. So, I set aside my pride, raised the white flag and said, “I messed up when I talked to you like that and you called me out. Will you forgive me?”
Michelle:
The war was over; neither side had won. We both had wounds and the battleground was messy. But, with our now joined forces, we were able to move forward together.
