TheFurFiles

My daughter and her BFF had a little tiff the other day. OK, it was a big tiff – she was pretty upset after. The problem? They discovered that they don’t like doing all of the same things.

“No duh,” I said to her. “No two people are exactly alike. And it’s a good thing you are learning this now, because once you get into some sort of serious romantic relationship – like if you ever get married – you will find out the same thing. You think those of us who have been together for a long time always agree? God no. If your father and I let something like that tear our relationship apart, it would’ve been over a long time ago. You may never have been born.”

I know, I can be brutal sometimes. But it is true. She may have ended up a tree or something, or whatever happens to the potential energies of human beings.

Of course, I think there is a certain cut-off. Like if one person wanted to live in Iceland and only liked watching television and playing pick up sticks, and the other person had their heart set on living in the Congo and they preferred a life of hiking and water-skiing (and I’m just making stuff up here as you can probably tell), then I’d say that maybe those two people aren’t meant to be together. There is definitely a happy medium. For the most part though, there needs to be some form of compromise.

For example, I can’t stand watching car racing shows. I REALLY can’t stand it. I mean, what’s the point? The cars just go around and around in circles. Yes, sometimes they crash, and while that may be the most interesting part, it is depressing because sometimes the drivers get hurt. But I watch those damn shows anyway. Why? Because I like to spend time with my husband, and he happens to be interested in that. And if I didn’t, I wouldn’t see him very much.

Conversely, when I put on American Idol and he runs to the basement saying, “I’m not watching that garbage. There’s no way in hell you can make me,” I just chalk that up to he fact that men aren’t nearly as socially advanced or considerate as women. Sorry men, but we ARE the better sex.

And I tell him as much. “You’re a schmuck,” I say. “I’d do it for you.” And this is when he grabs his cup of tea and some cookies, and he walks away. “Whatever, you go downstairs. We’ll see who gets to have sex later on,” I always add. And that’s exactly what happens – nothing.

Now take that lesson, dear daughter, and hold it close to your heart. Someday, you will understand exactly what I am talking about. No relationship is perfect. You just need to be able to work through your differences.

As you can see, your father and I are pros at it.