Irreconcilable Differences
In the middle of reading about dyslexia, I suddenly develop the munchies and reach a hand out for the open bag of peanuts lying on the table. She has the same idea too though, and beats me to the punch, practically knocking my hand out of the way to grab at a little fistful of nuts. I stare in surprise as she begins to shell them, oblivious to my dismay.
“Excuse me?” I manage to say.
She looks up at me questioningly, still shelling the peanuts and scattering little bits of shell everywhere. They lie discarded, skittering around on the table under the fan’s light breeze.
“Don’t you think that was a little bit… oh I don’t know…” I try to phrase it delicately while she waits for me to find the words, her patience slowly wearing thin. “…Insensitive?” I finish.
She drops the nuts, stops all movement and stares straight at me without blinking. I’ve really done it now, I think, I’ve really overstepped the boundaries. From the way her mouth is set and her head is tilted I can tell we’re about to have a fight.
A few months ago, we were getting on so well together. Sharing a tiny room wasn’t an issue so long as we respected each other’s personal space. But lately, I realise, we’ve been quarrelling an awful lot. How did it all go wrong?
She continues to stare, her gaze growing more and more impatient and accusing. I wait for a sound, an argument.
Nothing.
My words hang in mid-air between us, a sign of our growing discontent. “Look, I just think that maybe you should apologise or at least not push like that. And PLEASE. Please stop throwing the shells everywhere. I’m just tired of sweeping the floor.”
She continues to stare at me, hoping to guilt me into silence and submission. Sometimes, I feel bad and apologise, thinking I must be the intolerant one. But not today. I’ve just mopped the floor and her bad upbringing isn’t going to mess it up again. I’ve tried and tried to be tolerant, but today, at last I’m going to speak my mind. “Look, you heard what I said. Don’t just look at me like that.”
And then she does what she always does when she doesn’t want to argue anymore, when she just wants to get her way and put an end to the conversation. She gives me one last glare, practically rolls her eyes and begins to shell the nuts again.
I almost leap up from my chair in frustration. This time she’s gone too far. After everything we’ve been through, I won’t just sit here and be condescended.
Just to exasperate me further, she takes a handful of about six shelled nuts and puts them in her mouth all at once, creating unsightly bulges in her cheeks.
“Oh now you’ve done it,” I rage, as she turns to flounce away. “You rude, silly, completely spoilt little thing.” And I raise my hand, flick her on the nose and then pick her up. “You’re going back into your cage for the rest of the afternoon, Missy. And don’t even think you’re going to eat all six nuts at once, you’ll get diarrhoea and then who has to clean up?”
She innocently blinks at me and twitches her whiskers, playing the cute card to win my favour. But I’m an old hand at this. I just whisk her to her cage, pop open the door and shove her inside even though I’m secretly longing to cuddle her and laugh over how funny she is.
Then I indignantly turn my back on her and start sweeping up nutshells.
Back on her big orange running wheel, Noelle merely wrinkles her nose and starts to eat her first nut.
“Excuse me?” I manage to say.
She looks up at me questioningly, still shelling the peanuts and scattering little bits of shell everywhere. They lie discarded, skittering around on the table under the fan’s light breeze.
“Don’t you think that was a little bit… oh I don’t know…” I try to phrase it delicately while she waits for me to find the words, her patience slowly wearing thin. “…Insensitive?” I finish.
She drops the nuts, stops all movement and stares straight at me without blinking. I’ve really done it now, I think, I’ve really overstepped the boundaries. From the way her mouth is set and her head is tilted I can tell we’re about to have a fight.
A few months ago, we were getting on so well together. Sharing a tiny room wasn’t an issue so long as we respected each other’s personal space. But lately, I realise, we’ve been quarrelling an awful lot. How did it all go wrong?
She continues to stare, her gaze growing more and more impatient and accusing. I wait for a sound, an argument.
Nothing.
My words hang in mid-air between us, a sign of our growing discontent. “Look, I just think that maybe you should apologise or at least not push like that. And PLEASE. Please stop throwing the shells everywhere. I’m just tired of sweeping the floor.”
She continues to stare at me, hoping to guilt me into silence and submission. Sometimes, I feel bad and apologise, thinking I must be the intolerant one. But not today. I’ve just mopped the floor and her bad upbringing isn’t going to mess it up again. I’ve tried and tried to be tolerant, but today, at last I’m going to speak my mind. “Look, you heard what I said. Don’t just look at me like that.”
And then she does what she always does when she doesn’t want to argue anymore, when she just wants to get her way and put an end to the conversation. She gives me one last glare, practically rolls her eyes and begins to shell the nuts again.
I almost leap up from my chair in frustration. This time she’s gone too far. After everything we’ve been through, I won’t just sit here and be condescended.
Just to exasperate me further, she takes a handful of about six shelled nuts and puts them in her mouth all at once, creating unsightly bulges in her cheeks.
“Oh now you’ve done it,” I rage, as she turns to flounce away. “You rude, silly, completely spoilt little thing.” And I raise my hand, flick her on the nose and then pick her up. “You’re going back into your cage for the rest of the afternoon, Missy. And don’t even think you’re going to eat all six nuts at once, you’ll get diarrhoea and then who has to clean up?”
She innocently blinks at me and twitches her whiskers, playing the cute card to win my favour. But I’m an old hand at this. I just whisk her to her cage, pop open the door and shove her inside even though I’m secretly longing to cuddle her and laugh over how funny she is.
Then I indignantly turn my back on her and start sweeping up nutshells.
Back on her big orange running wheel, Noelle merely wrinkles her nose and starts to eat her first nut.
She said, she said at 2:40 am
1 Comments:
Ahahahahahahaha! That was hilarious!
Post a Comment
<< Home