She’d walked into the house after work carrying the same energy she’d left with this morning. So instead of greeting her, I sat quietly working on my book as she began the mundane task of unpacking her lunch bag. After being together this long I’ve learned what signs to look for before I go poking the bear. We’d gotten into one of our trademark silent fights before work and she seemed to still be running off those fumes.
Now here’s the thing.
This wasn’t some great fight about jealousy, religion, or our finances. Hell, it wasn’t even about who’s turn it was to pick dinner. A fight that never seems to get played out in our house.
You wanna know what we passive aggressively fought about before halfheartedly kissing each other goodbye and mumbling something that resembled “Have a good day” as we walked out the door not to see or hear from each other again for the next ten hours?
At seven o’clock in the morning we were in the kitchen fighting about tupperware.
Specifically this little fucker here.
Yes, I went and found the bowl.
Yes, I’m that pressed about it!
Yes, I feel that it is necessary to the story so feel free to judge me if you must.
She’d come in the kitchen while I was putting the finishing touches on my breakfast and lunch to start on hers. I was almost done when she started slamming cabinet doors. “What’s wrong babe?” I asked as I always do when she gets in these moods. “Where’s all the small containers like this ?” she asked as she picked up my bowl of oatmeal and slammed it back on the counter.
Annoyed, that she was choosing to do this, this early in the morning I simply replied “I don’t know”. She then went on a silent rampage through the kitchen opening and closing cabinet doors, the refrigerator, and dishwasher looking for the containers. “I just don’t see how we only have one bowl now.” she said in a huff. I couldn’t take it anymore and suggested that she just take the bowl I’d had my oatmeal in. After all I didn’t need a bowl with a top because I was just going to eat while I drove to work. All of which I shared with her before she replied “You already got food in this bowl Adreanna.” in a tone I didn’t feel was necessary.
It was at that moment I recognized I was being drug right into a nigga moment and opted out of the fight and went to work.
“A moment in which ignorance overwhelms the mind of an otherwise logical negro male; causing him to act in an illogical, self-destructive manner, i.e. like a nigga.”—Huey Freeman, first definition
We spoke briefly before I headed back out to the gym. I didn’t really want to go because I was craving fried chicken but I chalked that up to the devil trying to ruin my life and got my butt out the door. When I got back home, I found her happy as a clam sitting up in the bed watching Law and Order. I could smell the reason she was happy in the air and was immediately jealous that I couldn’t partake.
After eating dinner, having a quick conversation with my mom, and laying out my clothes for work I laid across the bed with her. She lay, looking back at me through eyes that were barely opened. “You almost became a blog post today.” I’d told her. “Why?” she asked. “Because of our little altercation this morning. I don’t know what crawled up your ass or why you woke up snappy this morning but you started in on me as soon as I opened my eyes.”
“No I didn’t”
“Oh yes you did and I tell you what. People ain’t got time to be fighting with you at seven o’clock in the morning.”
We went back and forth for a while laughing about how we both had been tripping that morning when I grabbed her arm. “Babe, will you make me a promise?” I asked. She gave me the same look she always gives me when I ask her that question. By now, she’s used to my fuckery. “Will you?” I sked again.
“What is it?”
“I Nicole, promise not to catch attitudes with Adreanna before nine in the morning and if I do, I promise to keep it to myself. If I break the promise, I have to let Adreanna keep my car for two weeks.
We met in the kitchen again to begin preparing breakfast and lunch. This morning she opened the dishwasher to find three of the tupperware bowls she had gone psycho about the day before. “Oh, so now there’s three bowls.” she said light heartedly.
Okay, so maybe I should have told her before I made her make the oath that I’d found the extra bowls in the trunk of my car.
I’m not shit okay!
I never claimed to be.
She knows this.