Waterloo Public Library Digital Collections

Waterloo Chronicle (Waterloo, On1868), 15 Dec 1976, p. 6

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For once I made a stand. I told her, in words to that effect, that that was a lot of women's magazine, soap opera crap. I went on to cite some of our friends who used to bat- ter each other regularly, and are now happily divorced from each other and remarried to non.hatterers. Her article hadn't said anything about battered husbands. I’ll draw a veil over the next few minutes, for those with tender sensibilities who have never been hit by a sneak punch from a woman when they weren't looking. Anyway, when I had picked myself off the floor, wiped the blood from my nose, and locked myself safely in the bath- room, I issued an ultimatum. "it you ever lay a finger on me again, I'm leaving. I'm going home to your father." I try to participate in the monologue by reading her one of my favorite articles, something like. “Is The Real John 'NItter Just a Shy, Bungle Little Boy Uoderneath 1t All?", She just retorts, “Who cares?" and goes relentlessly back to her own article. which this week was about bat- tered wives. The article was entitled “Couples That Batter Each Other Matter to Each Other," or something equally ridiculous. Its gist was that married people who fight, even physically. are far happier than those who hold in their re- sentments and become psychologically warped as a result. For some reason this irked her. I don't know whether it was the male chauvinistic crack or the fact that some of her friends are happier with a new mate, but she started a fight. As you aiiinagine, some otrthese topics don" really send me, and she gets quite annoyed when I don't wax suf- ficiently enthusiastic. . My wife and I had a terrific fight the other night. Sln's always reading articles and Watching television panels. One week it’s how you can guarantee that your baby will be a boy (or a girl). The next time it’s how to avoid dying in your sleep by positive dreaming. A A -- N KODAK . . . JOE’S ‘ MOVIE FILM Jflirilifi'l', _ self an! KoglgliitotaE 2 j CHRISTMAS $ 135/20 e . PRICES! . $4.29 1.89 Processing included sr LVAN I A Processing inclyded . llllllullllthMis $ 3 per pkg. Chronic». My, Doc-mint 15. 1076 Herreply: "Goahead, Youcrumb! ltyouwalkoutotthia house. you'll never get back in. It's in my name. 80's the car. I'll clean out our Joint account. darnishee your salary, hire a lawyer. and put you on Skid Row, where you belongs“ lneedn’ttellyouherethatshehadrecentlyreedsome shyster's article-ttttttttt how to go about doing just that to your husband. lwassomad thatlwasadamanttorquiteawhile. If there'd been a phone in that bathroom, I'd have (rolled the police for an escort and walked right out of there. But there wasn't. I ignored her further taunts, all ot them on a similarly low, despicable level, and maintained a dignified silence. She calls it sulking. Fortunately. there was a podium- back novel on the back of the toilet, and l was - abdkbed. She can't stand this. Bitter invective, coarse comments, even bad language rolls off her shoulders. But-she nearly goes out of her skull when there's nobody listening to her. Finally. "Do you want a cup of tea, you cowardly tmm?" I didn't make a sound for a full minute, then minted, "Maybe. What else?" I meant a lull aroiotf and an abject admission of her guilt in instigating the donnyhrook. ‘ "And a piece of apple pie," she snapped. "With cheddar cheese." I gave up. How can you reason with sometime like After a while, we had cooled out a fair bit, and she got me an ice pack for my nose. I was willing to forget it, but under- neath I was still simmering, and l enterthined thoughts of cashing my two $100 bonds the next day, skipping off to the Canary Islands, and leaving her high and dry. " But," like every woman" I've Ever mer, she wanted to “talk things out." That's one of the most disgusting phras- es in the English language. Right, chaps? . that? "Welt, O.K. But no more battering, baby, or I call the STOCK UP WITH THESE CHRISTMAS PRICES! sr',"",' _" " ":14“ - oc' '1"; "5.. \- , _ The fault with leves Well, it did-wind up in a clinch. [had her arms so tied up that Muhammad Ali couldn‘t have thrown- a punch in the same simai ion. So she kneed me you know where.' When I had stopped grunting, and got to my knees, I ‘picked up her list offaults. which she’d thrown in my face as I lay prostrate. e I haifexpected that she'd write something like, "My only fault is that I don't appreciate what a wonderful husband I have." Itwasfkntturdeeidedthtttse'deaehmiatitrtofotsr worstfaulu. iesttheotherhavealooYattheliat, that!” dosomethirtgattmttit. - b [waded awa‘y My for what ”and hours. my tmttrueatmeArmtotoeteeemierotntrmmttr. Mylistwent sometttingtiketttir. a) tooreadytotorgivewifeiahmtidttetinner b) toogest-orithmyehiidren; 'tutstttetighter . ettoofomtotgrandehildrert; mustbeswmer d) complain too much about arthritis; about! complain moreabouthemmorhoids . e)teoreadytoseegood sideofothers; mustbemore realistic. k . Well, my list went on and on and on. I didn't realize what a truly rotten guy I was until I started to put it down. My wife finished fairly quickly, and resumed her overt affair with her sewing machine (one of the things that are driving us apart). [r h Handed over my list. She started to read it with a benign smile. The smile began to curl down on the comers. Her face got red. “Why, you lousy little cockroach!“ she exploded. Ididn't point gt that she was being redundant. - " like to tell you this ilttie marital drama had a happy ending. that it wound up in a clinch. . It was a little shorter than that. It Just said, "None." 6

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