“3 … 2 … 1! Yes! We won! We’re going to the championships!”
JG’s triumphant cry at Delaware’s victory over Southern Illinois rang out on Saturday evening. In the event of the win and berth to the championships in Chattanooga, Tennessee, we had discussed having a little get-together to watch the game on Friday, which happened to fall on JG’s birthday, conveniently enough. He had forbidden me from making concrete plans until the win was final, but I had a list stewing in my brain, just waiting to be executed. I turned to JG to ask about a guest list and whether he wanted pigs-in-a-blanket or wings, but I stopped short when I saw him hold his phone up to his ear.
“Dude, are you watching this? Do you want to go to Chattanooga or what?”
Uh, what?
“I can definitely take the day off that Friday. … Tickets go on sale on Sunday, and I think season ticket holders get some kind of advantage. … Okay, call me tomorrow!” He hung up. “You’d let me go, right?”
Let him? What just happened?
I proceeded cautiously. “What does he think about going?”
“He has to talk to some other guys first, but he definitely wants to go. How awesome would that be?”
“Yeah, that would be really cool. Did you two talk about this beforehand? I wasn’t even aware that you were thinking about it.”
“I didn’t want to bring it up and jinx the game, but it was always in the back of my mind.”
Oh. I wish I had known about that. “When would you have to leave?”
“Probably late on Thursday, after work.”
I did some quick calculations. The game was at 8pm on Friday night, so if the drive was 12 hours long … I wouldn’t get to see JG for the 36 hours surrounding his birthday.
“Okay. Well, um, just let me know what you guys decide.”
My mind swirled. I was ready to spend JG’s birthday with him. I had presents and a scheme to make cupcakes all set to go. I had no other plans for the weekend. It was out of the question for me to take Friday off, so I had never even entertained the option of going down to Chattanooga. The vision of game night at our house (with a side of birthday fun) was vaporizing before my very eyes.
I fretted all through dinner and the rest of the night. I couldn’t be hurt that JG automatically turned to his guy friend because I couldn’t possibly take the day off from work. (But I’m the football buddy!) He didn’t intentionally hide the plan from me; it was just a sports superstition thing. (What about the plans for the party?) It would be a really fun trip, especially for his birthday. (Doesn’t he want to spend his birthday with me?) JG was able to take the day off, so there was no reason not to try for tickets. (But I want to go, too!)
The worst part was that I didn’t feel comfortable telling JG that I wanted him to be at home. That it would make me really sad to have to watch that game by myself, from home, with a stack of birthday presents next to me, and know that I couldn’t be with him. That I wish I had known that he was thinking about going down to the game. That I really wanted to give him a shindig at home as a next-best option. But all that would have been selfish. It wasn’t like it was my birthday.
It’s not fair, I moaned internally. By making it seem like I have some sort of say in the matter of whether or not he goes to the game, he makes me the scapegoat or the hero. It’s either “my wife is so awesome because she understands that I wanted to be at this game” or “I can’t come, guys, the wife wants me at home.” I would have preferred that JG made a decision, even without my input, and left me to the consequences. At least I could have been angry with a clear conscience.
That night, I climbed into bed with a sigh. I could take the high road, tell JG to go to the game, and silently hope that he would telepathically understand the sacrifice I was making. I could be honest, ask him to stay home with me, and then wonder if he resented the fact that he could have gone to the game. If those were my choices, neither the high road nor the honesty was all that attractive. I could say nothing and let the guys decide whatever they wanted. I knew that if I didn’t say anything, it would be to get out of saying, “JG, I don’t want you to go to the game.” That wasn’t the case; I did want him to go to the game, but I was torn at the thought that we wouldn’t be together, especially on his birthday. That was the real issue.
Finally, I turned to him and said, “I would really like to be with you on your birthday. That’s not to say that I’m not letting you go to the game. I just wanted to spend that day with you, that’s all.”
And all at once, my brain was deluged with guilty misgivings that I was being manipulative. What if he thinks I’m playing him? Am I actually trying to make him stay, in some underhanded way? Am I telling him that he has a choice, when I really want him to pick The Right Choice, that is, staying home with me? That’s not what I’m saying! What am I saying?
JG wrapped his arm around me. “No problem,” he said. “You just have to promise me that the next time Delaware makes it to the finals, you’re coming with me.”
Deal.
8 comments
I’m glad you were able to be honest. And I’m glad he was understanding.
Yes, me too.
Wow, I am impressed with how well you both handled that. Way to go!
Tim has done that kind of thing to me before, but instead of not mentioning it prior he always assumes he’s already told me. Like one weekend his best friend was going to be in town, so I was all ready to hang out with the guys and roll my eyes (lovingly!) as they drank themselves silly. And then the day before the friend came, Tim was all “When I go camping with John this weekend” and I was all, “wait, WHAT? You never said anything about camping. Why don’t I know about this?” His response? “I assumed you knew that John coming to town meant we would go camping.” Obviously. That’s the natural assumption to make. It wasn’t that I wanted to keep him from going; the issue was more that I had visions of hanging out with the boys all weekend planned out in my head, and suddenly it had all changed. They were going camping, and I had zero time to get used to the idea that I’d be spending an entire weekend away from my husband. Drives me crazy when they drop bombshells like that. (Although, to be fair, I’m sure I’ve unknowingly done the same thing a time or two myself.)
I didn’t bring this up, really, but it’s not like, “Oh, I’m a little defenseless girl who can’t have fun without her husband,” it’s like — I like hanging out with my husband! And I am often on the eye-rolling end of boys’ nights, but it’s okay with me.
Aw, JG is the sweetest! It sounds to me like it just never occurred to him that you’d want him to be home. (In fact, if it were AS, I would guess that he momentarily forgot that it even was his birthday. Boys!)
Now Delaware better hurry up and make it to the finals next year when you have some vacation time!
Amen! I’ll be mad if it takes, like, five years.
I’ve gone through similar things with Ross and it usually turns out that I’ve completely over thought the situation while he’s cool with whatever.
Yeah, that’s usually how it is with us, too. I can’t help it, though. The thoughts assault me.
you’ve definitely found yourself a winner. Good work!
And happy birthday to him!
Yes, he’s a good one. Thanks for the birthday wishes!
go blue hens AND sweet husbands!
Yes! Both! I REALLY hope they win now, as a birthday present to him!
A variation of this situation happens to me a lot too. I have to walk that fine line of being a mean selfish wife or not saying what I really think. Usually it turns out that I can be a “mean” wife and he doesn’t even see it that way. I guess I’m just overly sensitive about it.
You’ve got yourself a keeper though!
It definitely is a fine line between selfish and honest, but I think you’re right in that most guys don’t even interpret it that way. I just know that JG hates having to play mind reader.
Just to clarify, I didn’t interpret your post at all in a “I’m a little defenseless girl who can’t have fun without her husband” way. I took your reaction to be similar to what mine is in the same situation — that you already had plans that you were looking forward to, and suddenly changing those plans threw you for a loop.
And I tend to be an eye-roller at the end of boys’ nights, too, which is why Tim knew better than to think I would want to spend 48 hours camping with the boys, but a for few hours at a time hanging out with the boys is usually pretty fun.
I know you didn’t take it that way — I was just clarifying for the good of the order.
It’s hard to verbalize that I like being with JG without sounding like a damsel in distress.
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