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2/20/1999 The Fight that Wasn'tMy legs were bothering me so much yesterday that I asked Tab if he would massage them for me last night. As is all-too usual for us, we didn't go to bed until late and then we read for awhile before turning out the light. He said then, "Do you still want me to rub your legs." I responded that it was kind of late. He seemed mad and said, "Well, why did I stay waiting for you to go to bed, then?" I answered, "Beats me. You were the one complaining about being tired. You should have gone to bed earlier." "Well, what do you want me to do?" "Just go to sleep," I answered. And he turned over and put in his ear plugs. I was angry. I was annoyed that after I specifically asked him to massage my legs, he hadn't made a move to do so as soon as he came upstairs. And my legs were still bothering me. I went downstairs and took some ibuprofen. I went back to bed, but I was still too agitated to sleep. I thought maybe a warm shower would help my muscles so I took a long one. When I had dressed after my shower, I was surprised to see Tab downstairs sitting on the couch. "What are you doing down here?" I asked, mentally preparing for another fight. He surprised me by answering, "I came down to rub your legs." And did so while we watched the end of Leno. I was disarmed by him; this is not the dance I am used to. Usually these kinds of incidents escalate into major battles with us. It was nice to know that we can halt a small argument before it becomes a huge fight if one of us breaks the pattern. This morning he let me sleep late and got the kids up, dressed, and fed, changed the litterbox, and did some laundry. Whatta guy!
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