Achmed, The Dead Terrorist!


For the past 38 years I've tried to sort out a few things about my relationship with this man I've married.

I love and adore him about 97% of the time. Well, maybe more like 98% of the time. But every once in a while... Well, if you've been married for very long, you probably understand that one pretty well.

So the one thing that I really am saddest about is a behavior I see him use every time he is stressed/stretched to his limit and trying to deal with children. The same behavior/responses I've seen his parents use with his younger siblings. So I suppose that he learned the action/response/behavior from them. What's saddest for me is that it doesn't seem to bother him--or at least not enough to change it, so he keeps using the behavior.

For a LONG time I have worked at not behaving and reacting the way I remember my parents having disciplined me. In fact, people who have first met my parents and then met me can't believe I'm from the same family. I take that as a compliment and pat myself on the back and say what a good girl am I.

Then a few months ago I realized something that hadn't occurred to me before-yeah, the air getting let out of the balloon time. My Patriarchal Blessing is explicit in describing some of the gifts that God has given me. Guess what! Most of what I have overcome-I didn't do on my own. He, Father, gave me that gift. Not that it didn't take work on my part to change behavior--most of this came together the more I read the scriptures, prayed and relied on the arm of God.

I've known and understood the scripture that talks of the sins of the parents being visited upon the heads of the children unto the third and fourth generation. However, it never occurred to me that the changes come because of gifts from God. Silly me.

That's all the base you needed to make the rest of this humbling experience (for me humbling at least) make more sense and to see the value in it that I feel it has.

A few weeks ago I'm visiting with my dear hubby and again (I'm sure he's tired of it at this point-how many times can you hash over an issue without resolution before it fits the description of 'beating a dead horse'?) about his short fuse issue. Well, you're right-we discussed it and again, there's no resolution. Not even close. Still.

Last week there was another incident-this time not involving kids-just he and I. Although he has like a bucket load of patience and selflessness he gives and shows me, there is still an 'every once-in-a-while'...

We were at the grocery-a mutually agreed upon time and event. He grabbed four recyclable grocery bags and we went in. We gathered our food (hunter gatherer takes on a whole new meaning!) and began the checking out process.

It's late at night and the store doesn't have sufficient baggers so my honey love starts bagging our stuff. One of the bags is from the Ghiradelli Chocolate store on Pier 39. It is NOT a full size grocery bag. Not even a half size. He grumbles about the size and I flippantly say, "Well of course you grabbed that one, it's your favorite!" To which he snarls. Even the cashier (must be hyper-sensitive to anger) is startled and reacts.

Shortly, we are 'safely' in the car and start the conversation (again) and I say, "I was hurt and offended by the instant anger. I can't control you, but I can control me. I guess if you're going to snarl at me over things like that, then I shall just have to learn to shut up more and remain silent around you so I won't hurt your feelings or make you angry."

He did the shuffle, broken pieces of maybe could be, eventually, perhaps sentences and we're back where we were before. Nowhere.

Another week passes and the conversation comes up again, but this time I had received a piece of inspiration. Dang it-too bad I was so focused on trying to be a good parent early on and not working harder on our relationship-maybe I would have had this thought 38 years ago!

Oh well. Here's the thought I proposed to him and he accepted.

"We did not get married to hurt each other. We got married because we love each other. We love being around each other. We love spending time together. We love doing things together. So...

What if we have a code-word or phrase, something funny so that when one of us says or does something that causes the other to feel hurt, offended, or attacked the victim can say the code word and it's agreed that the pain stops right then and there and then we can talk about it later when we're alone?"

Again a few of the broken, almost, could be, maybe, sentence pieces and in frustration a huge sigh and, "I like the idea, I just can't think of something we can use as a code word/phrase!"

"I can! How about 'Achmed, the dead terrorist'"

He busted out laughing. He loves it. So, that's what we're going to use from now on.

I think we have a solution to our problem!

Jeff Dunham, comedian, has a funny skit-if you could just white-out the "bleep" words it'd be perfect. I've attached a link so you can get an idea of why the love of my life, my eternal companion, thinks using this phrase is a good solution.

Achmed, the Dead Terrorist

So now, instead of pain pulling us apart, we can agree to discuss this civilly at an appropriate time and place. Whew!

Comments

Ruth Sarah said…
"It's a flesh wound!"
September 17, 2011 at 9:20 PM
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