When You Get Married, You’ll Soon Learn Agreeing On Dinner Is The Most Difficult Part


I get so indecisive sometimes, I can’t make up my mind about anything, even the simplest of decisions, like last night, my wife and I are trying to figure out dinner, she’s like, “What do you want?” and I’m like, “I don’t know, anything’s good I guess, whatever you want,” and she says, “Sushi?” and I say, “Sushi? Didn’t we just have sushi?” and she goes, “That was like a week ago,” to which I reply, “Yeah, I guess, but it feels like we just had it, you know what I mean?” and she shoots back, “Yeah, well you had pizza for lunch and dinner yesterday, why can’t we have sushi separated by a whole week?”

And I can tell immediately that I’ve f’ed up, me being the one telling her we could order “whatever, anything she wanted,” but she doesn’t bring it up right away, I know she will, eventually, if I can’t decide on something, but she makes another suggestion first, “Indian?” and I don’t know, I kind of just stare off into space, like thinking it over in my head, it’s not even that I don’t want Indian, it’s that I don’t have any feelings for it whatsoever, like her saying the word Indian registers in my head, I hear her say it, but it doesn’t spark anything inside me, neither good nor bad, and so I can’t respond with anything, I can only continue to stare, to zone out, maybe if I just completely ignore it, she’ll move on to something else.

“Rob? Indian?” and I need to engage here, but the best I can muster is, “Eh. I don’t know,” and now I know it’s coming, she’s going to get fed up, I’d be fed up, if I asked her what she wanted for dinner, and she pushed all onus of responsibility my way, of course I’d get a little annoyed if she started vetoing all of my decisions.

But I can’t commit. Do I want Indian? I don’t think so. Even sushi wouldn’t have been terrible, but I had already issued a complaint, which, maybe that was a little hasty of me, maybe I was being a tad difficult, because maybe sushi, I guess I could do sushi. She interrupts my thought process, “OK, so no sushi, no Indian,” and here would have been a good time to let her in on what was going through my head, about maybe warming up to the whole sushi thing, but I thought better of it, we were already too far into this that if I were to backtrack on the sushi, that would have been it, sushi for dinner, game set match, Rob zero, wife one.

“Mexican?” and I love Mexican, but the Mexican place by us is so heavy, so at least I have something to say here, I tell her, “That Mexican place is so heavy …” and she rolls her eyes, I don’t want to put off her suggestion entirely, so I add, “But I like it. It’s a great Mexican place. Just really heavy. Do you really feel like eating something so heavy?” and again, I think I got too busy defending my initial reaction, because sure Mexican is heavy, but now that I’m thinking about it, I wouldn’t mind eating something heavy.

“Actually, Mexican sounds pretty good,” but she’s already been swayed by my comment, “No, you’re right, I don’t really feel like eating anything that heavy,” which is my own fault, I set myself up for that one. But now I can’t get the taste of those tacos out of my head, “But what about those chorizo nachos?” I try to tempt her, and she pauses, but I can tell it’s going to be dismissed, “No, maybe next time. What about falafel?”

And now we’re swinging the other way, all because of my heavy comment. Note to self: unless I’m really set on not eating something for dinner, don’t describe it as heavy. I like falafel, but, “Honey, that’s not really a dinner,” which, I don’t even know what that means, but it’s the best I can come up with without giving her a minute to collect her thoughts, a desperate move on my part to try and avoid what I know to be coming next, an exasperated, “OK, so you tell me that you’ll eat anything, that it’s whatever I choose, right?”

There it is. “Right,” I tell her, “So let’s just get Mexican, you said it, obviously because you want it, right? You want it, I want it, let’s get Mexican,” and there’s a pause, I think that she’s considering it, but I’m mistaken, that face isn’t one of consideration, it’s one of apprehension, “But,” and I know it’s not going to happen, “It’s so … heavy.”

And then I think, sushi. Sushi wouldn’t be terrible, I could eat sushi. So I say, “You know what? Let’s just have sushi. You wanted sushi, so let’s get it,” and she’s like, “Are you sure?” and I should just be a grown up here and be happy with the fact that after all of my indecisiveness we’ve actually come to an agreement, but I can’t help myself, there are relationship points to be earned here, selfless points, I can use this in the future, something like, “Well you got to pick sushi last week …” and so I spit it out, “Well, I mean, I’ll get it … if that’s what you want. I can eat sushi, for you,” and she looks at me and smiles and says, “Thanks hun,” and I’m like, “Hey, no problem, anything for my one and only.” Thought Catalog Logo Mark

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