Aifee's One-Sided Soliloquies
All about:
Atchbund and Aifee
The dreaded cold-developing-into-flu has come upon me. I am listless and despondent, and it shows. Not that Atch cares much. It's work for him, as usual. This stoic poker-faced take on the world makes my teeth itch. And when my teeth itch, I tend to wax eloquent about the current state of affairs getting my gander up - which is lately, the price of birth control.
This morning, as we were rushing to get dressed for work, I riffled through the mess of our dresser to take my usual medication, only to find that I had ran out. Atch was in his usual unruffled mode, pawing gel through the diminishing stubble on his head.
"Atch, the pills are expensive," I complained, holding up my empty pack, "maybe we should think about using condoms?"
He sliced a telling glance at me in the mirror, showing exactly how numb he felt about the subject. Funny how much sentiment he can convey through his silence.
"Condoms are four pesos a pop. It's not like we have time to do it that often."
Another sharp look (thanks to you, that look seemed to say).
I ventured further afield into the realm of fantasy. "Maybe you should get a vasectomy."
A snort.
I appealed to his cheapskate nature. "It's done for free in government hospitals. And if I do get pregnant after that, you can point a finger at me and go 'that is not my child!'"
Atch wrinkled his nose in distaste, showing just how much disdain he held for the sowing of intrigue.
I tried once more, "because if I get a ligation, they'll have to slice me open and I won't be able to wear a bikini again." As if that made perfect logical sense.
Atch sighed, finished dressing and left the room. Somehow, I wasn't at all surprised. This type of one-sided conversations happen often. I get to yak and he gets to listen (and make all-sorts of faces and non-word responses). When I need to vent, he seems to know - and waits until I get whatever it is off my chest. Then I feel better. But not by much.
Later at work, I sent him a text message: "Am feeling sick. Slight temperature. Headache, chills. Tonsils the size of your balls."
He texted back: "Poor Aif. Drink lots of water and take medicine."
There's hope for him yet.
Maybe I'll be able to wrangle an acupressure massage from him later. Now that's something that's best served with absolute blissful silence.
This morning, as we were rushing to get dressed for work, I riffled through the mess of our dresser to take my usual medication, only to find that I had ran out. Atch was in his usual unruffled mode, pawing gel through the diminishing stubble on his head.
"Atch, the pills are expensive," I complained, holding up my empty pack, "maybe we should think about using condoms?"
He sliced a telling glance at me in the mirror, showing exactly how numb he felt about the subject. Funny how much sentiment he can convey through his silence.
"Condoms are four pesos a pop. It's not like we have time to do it that often."
Another sharp look (thanks to you, that look seemed to say).
I ventured further afield into the realm of fantasy. "Maybe you should get a vasectomy."
A snort.
I appealed to his cheapskate nature. "It's done for free in government hospitals. And if I do get pregnant after that, you can point a finger at me and go 'that is not my child!'"
Atch wrinkled his nose in distaste, showing just how much disdain he held for the sowing of intrigue.
I tried once more, "because if I get a ligation, they'll have to slice me open and I won't be able to wear a bikini again." As if that made perfect logical sense.
Atch sighed, finished dressing and left the room. Somehow, I wasn't at all surprised. This type of one-sided conversations happen often. I get to yak and he gets to listen (and make all-sorts of faces and non-word responses). When I need to vent, he seems to know - and waits until I get whatever it is off my chest. Then I feel better. But not by much.
Later at work, I sent him a text message: "Am feeling sick. Slight temperature. Headache, chills. Tonsils the size of your balls."
He texted back: "Poor Aif. Drink lots of water and take medicine."
There's hope for him yet.
Maybe I'll be able to wrangle an acupressure massage from him later. Now that's something that's best served with absolute blissful silence.
2 comments:
Ah yes, Dondi. I know this conversation and I expect most couples in the world do. If there's one thing the internet has shown me it is that, basically, wherever they live, men are all the same under the (fore)skin.
Hi Dondi!
Got your post, and I truly appreciate it. Thanks for the visit in my blog too. I found yours fun to read, and I'll probably be in for another visits. Yes, I wrote the Dream Vacation for Blogvertise, but I haven't received any payments yet because I just started. I am not also sure if I will be paid, because they use Paypal only for payments and we can't withdraw payments from Paypal here in the Philippines. If this is confirmed I'd probably think tiwce in continuing...but probably only until then. Regards.
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