Fits of anger. Acts of spite. Unanswered phone calls. Ignored emails. Nasty verbal exchanges. Impromptu trip to strip clubs. Hot, untouched dinner dumped down the garbage disposal. Honey splattered on a windshield with pennies thrown on top. Wedding rings flushed. Unlimited ways to express rage towards a loved one.
However, trips to and gifts from some of the finest art museums in the world is a rather strange way to express fury. But this is my husband’s preferred way to needle me. Years ago in the midst of long-distance miscommunication, he would go to strip clubs and pay with our debit card to make sure I knew exactly where he was. In my younger days, I would cry torrents but now I just say, “Have fun.” Since gentleman clubs no longer spike my ire, my husband, who travels for work weekly, has taken to visiting the places I wish I could visit and eating the food from all over the world that I wish I could eat, but cannot because I am at home making dinner, washing clothes, doing homework and driving our children to chess and Chinese classes.
Sure, his passive-aggressive method of sending me pictures of New York Style Pizza and New York Style Cheesecake from Manhattan infuriates me and his trips to museums make me yearn for my college days of art history field trips. But, when it comes down to it, I lose nothing in these silly disputes. Instead, I gain a husband who is more knowledge about art and brings me great gifts from top museums, like a canvas tote from the MoMA in New York (which features the museum’s recognizable logo in an ant motif to coincide with The Museum of Modern Art's Dalí: Painting and Film exhibition). Wonder what next week’s quibble will bring from San Francisco?
Author's Note: Handsome Husband, thank you for the tote bag. I love it. And when I carry it back and forth to the library loaded with books, no one knows that I haven't been to that museum in 15 years. So, thank you for making me look cultured and well-traveled without enduring a TSA pat down.
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