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Lost in Translation
When communication broke down, Dave and Merry Marinello had to learn a new language.
By Merry Marinello | posted 9/12/2008 11:35AM
 1 of 3

Merry's side: He doesn't get it
I opened the car door to blaring music that felt like nails on a chalkboard. How can he listen to that noise? I thought impatiently. Heaving a sigh, I clicked off the radio as I slid into the passenger seat.
"How was work?" Dave asked cheerfully.
"Exhausting and stressful."
I couldn't wait to get home. I envisioned our large bathtub filled with steaming water. A 30-minute soak with no interruptions just might make me feel human again.
"I've got an idea—let's go out for dinner," Dave suggested.
Pulled from dreams of candles and bubble bath, I frowned and shook my head. "Not tonight. I just want to go home." Restaurants can be so loud, I mused, and we can't afford to spend the money. I was imagining myself curled cozily into a chair, sipping hot tea, when Dave spoke again.
"Well, would you like to invite over some friends for dinner?"
Was he nuts? I tell him I've had a terrible day and he wants me to clean the house and cook dinner for company? "I said I've had a hard day. Didn't you hear me?" I snapped, amazed at how oblivious he was being.
Dave didn't respond, but a moment later he put his hand on my knee and smiled at me.
"Why are you so happy?" Did he actually think I'd feel like having sex tonight? We passed the rest of the car ride in silence.
How could Dave be so insensitive? This wasn't the first time he'd been less than understanding of my feelings, but it felt like the last straw. Why can't he be more attuned to what I need?
Dave's side: I can't win
I pulled up to the building where Merry works, five minutes early and feeling on top of the world. Turning up the radio, I tapped my fingers to the music as I waited for her to appear. When she did, however, her expression was tense and unhappy.
Uh-oh. Bad day, I thought. I flashed her a bright smile. "Hi, honey!"
Click. She turned off the radio once she climbed into the car. When I asked about work, she only muttered that it had been stressful and tiring. Determined to cheer her, I came up with the perfect solution.
"Let's go out for dinner." I figured Merry could vent her frustrations over a nice meal without the hassle of cooking and cleaning up.
She was shaking her head before I finished speaking, looking even more on edge. I racked my brain for another plan, something to make Merry feel better without leaving the house. Maybe some company would do the trick—dinner and a game night with a few close friends, since I know being around people always makes me feel more relaxed.
"Would you like to invite over some people?"
You would have thought I'd suggested a root canal. Merry's eyes flashed with anger, and her tone made me feel like a little kid.
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