Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Feminist Marriage Council

When I was a child, I enjoyed watching the old tag-team wrestling duo's on the WWF.  It was great to watch the the "Hart Foundation" or "Demolition" systematically destroy their opponent.  One of them would hold the other guy, then the other would punch away.  Or one guy would hold the other guy down, while the other viciously attacked the other man.

The reason I bring this up you say?  Well, it's the best physical description of the experience I had with my now, ex-wife as we visited a marriage councilor.  I was not down with it to begin with as most men are not.  Look, I know I'm right in any argument with my wife; but, if I don't cower down and let her win, I LOSE!  Got it?  

So the wife comes home one day smiling.  I knew it was not payday, so there must be another man in her life, or some other thing on her mind.  She tells me she was recommended to a really great marriage councilor and thinks we should go.

Now remember, I know we should not go.  I'm right, but must let her win, or fight all night about it.  So, I say, "Sure, sounds like fun."  

A tad shocked, but excited she books the appointment and marks it on my calender.  And that is represented by a note that hangs above the T.V. so I don't forget.

Now we arrive at doctor "Pat's" office and it did not take long to figure out there was something not quite right about this place.  Maybe it's because instead of a horseshoe about the door, there was a Venus symbol.  That was the first clue that this was not your ordinary Doctor.

Let's get him girl!

She welcomes my wife with a big hug and kiss and tremendous exuberance.  Then, she looks at me and with a sneer and a evil eye. She says, "What's your name"
     "Matthew." I respond.
     "Why don't you have a seat over in that chair."
She turns away from me now and returns to "happy doctor" while asking my wife about her boots.

As I sit in the chair, I look around the room and see pictures on the wall of Ruth Ginsburg, Susan B. Anthony and Margret Sanger.  And for reasons still unknown to me, I had not realized I was sitting at the threshold of man-hating hell!  Until that is, the session started.

As the Doctor finished laughing with my wife about how stupid football was and how much of a waste of time it is; she turns to me and her demeanor changes.  She looks at me as if her eyes could have been on fire with hate.  "So Matthew, I hear that you yelled at your wife a few weeks ago, is this true?" She asked.  I almost fell out of the chair, because I knew damn well the incident she was talking about.  I blurted out,
    "Yes, but you don't..."
    "I don't want to hear any excuses for your poor behavior, Matthew!" she snapped.  "What could provoke you to bee so mean and a such a poor husband?"
    "She hit me over the head with a bottle, a GLASS ONE!"
    "I am sure you did something to deserve it."
    "I was asleep!" I shouted.

The Doctor and my wife smile at each other.  Then she says to me, "What about this next incident Matthew, I understand you made your wife cry last week. Is that true?"  She asked.  Again, my jaw hit the floor.  I knew exactly what she was talking about.  I just sit there.  The Doctor says, "Well, what did you do that for?
     "Because she TRIED TO SET ME ON FIRE, WOMAN!"
     "Well, Matthew, to be honest as little as I know you, I could totally understand that.  She says with a smirk.
    "That's it, I'm done!" as I got up to leave.  "And by the way, are you even married, Doctor?"
     "No." As her grin sunk to a look of embarrassment.
     "I should have known, no Child Psychologist seems to have children these days either."

And, the moral of this story?  I don't know, what are you asking me for.  I guess don't watch wrestling and go to feminist marriage councilors.  Or, you could just not get married, and watch all the wrestling and football you want.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions

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