Standing on Narrow Ground

So, wow. The comments on the great cookie incident of 2008 floored me. I really appreciate every single person who took the time to talk about it with me. I felt validated, I learned, I grew. I've made some changes as a result that I think are going to make a huge difference. I will make sure Ess tantrums under my immediate control, so that approaching her is virtually impossible. I used to do this and I have become complacent. I've also been practicing some rote, bland responses to interference. I think my favorite is "I'm parenting according to a therapist's advice, thanks." It's not quite true any more, but small lies to public boobs are the least of my worries.

You gave me a lot of confidence. Or maybe, you reminded me why I have a lot of confidence. Things are going well for us and I don't have to justify myself to every person capable of a nasty head shake. None of us do. We choose whose judgement matters to us. Thank you. Truly.

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On to the pressing issue of the day. Our marriage stands on slightly shakier ground today than it did a week ago. Or maybe, slightly narrower ground. I think we've established that I'm not the most precise driver in the universe. I've hit things in the past. Big things. Garage doors. Telephone polls. Rocks that have been in one location for a really long time. And, remember how I told you that if Matt and I ever contemplated divorce, our garage doors would be the cause? We have a second ground and here it is:


The new gate to our driveway. Actually, the new gate opening to our driveway, the gate has yet to be hung. Matt finished the fence last weekend and called me out to swoon over his craftsmanship and tell him what a mighty, home-improving man he is. I had been watching his progress out the window. He really is impressive when he throws himself into a project.

I went out fully intended to lavish him with praise. In the bright sunlight, facing the fence and the new gate opening, I paused.

You can see the problem, right? I mean, we've lost football fields of maneuvering room. It's not like you can drive straight into our driveway. You're making a turn, no matter your approach.

Me: ?
Him: What?
Me: Why is it so much narrower than the driveway
Him: That's the size they make the gates. It's ten feet.
Me: It looks really narrow.
Him: That's the size gates are.
Me: No other size gate exists in the universe?
Him: That's the standard size gate.
Me: ?
Him: What?
Me: Why can't the gate be wider?
Him: Two words: SPECIAL ORDER. Besides, it would be way too hard to install.
Me: Why?
Him: Complicated. You wouldn't understand.
Me: Try Me.
Him: Gravity.
Me: ?
Him: The gate would sag.
Me: You are telling me with a straight face that no one in the history of fence gates has ever had to deal with a gate wider than ten feet. The wider than ten feet gate sag remains one of the great unsolved problems of the universe?
Him: Ten feet is wide enough. It's standard.
Me: Wide enough for a Mini Cooper, maybe. In case you haven't noticed, I'm not driving the thoroughbred of vehicles.
Him: If you're careful, it won't be a problem.
Me: And if I hit it?
Him: ....
Me: ?
Him: Don't. Don't hit it.
Me: So, we've spent thousands of dollars so that I can scrape snow off of the van while it's parked in the street? Next to our sidewalk with footprints in it. Classic.
Him: Practice. You'll get it. Besides, you can blog about it and spread your lies about me.
Me: What lies. I blog only truth.
Him: The Cookie Loogi Dance was complete fabrication.
Me: Was not. I still have sore stomach muscles from laughing.
Him: You exaggerated.
Me: Maybe a little.
Him: Ha! I didn't react that badly.
Me: No, you did. I meant the part about using drool as a weapon. That was exaggeration. Obviously. For effect.
Him: ....
Him: I'm not parking the van for you.
Me: I'm going to hit that right hand pole. I've already hit that rock twice.
Him: I might leave you.
Me: I would so win that case.


May it please the court, the parties cite narrow-gatedness and irreconcilable parking differences as the reasons that the marriage should be dissolved. I direct your attention to EXHIBIT A. The gate opening in question. As you can see, the aforementioned gate opening eliminates all possibility for even the slightest error in navigation. We contend that the Plaintiff husband's placement of the gate opening virtually assured that my poor client would, at some point, nail that freaking right-hand gate post, ruining both the gate and the marriage. Under the circumstances, we don't even feel it's necessary to show you EXHIBIT B, the behemoth minivan, or EXHIBIT C, the three screaming, hungry toddlers. We ask this honorable court and the ladies and gentlemen of the jury to find for the Defendant. She wants the house. With a wider gate. The kids are negotiable.