Wednesday, February 16, 2011

The Game

                         I am SO tired of playing second fiddle to a video game system. Seriously, I think I'm beginning to feel insulted that a game that consists of shooting people online is more interesting than me. Maybe if I had some buttons implanted on my forehead he'd be interested in my mind. WTH??? The funny thing is that he can stay up all night and play until the wee hours of the morning but if he sits on the couch to watch a movie with me, he falls asleep within minutes. Then he wakes up later in the movie and I have to pause it to explain what's been going on. I love the man, I do, but this has got to stop. I have considered hiding all of his games and the controller for a month but I'm afraid he'd suffer withdrawal and have a stroke from the stress.
                       I understand that he works hard for our family and he should be entitled to some free time to indulge. I really don't mind if he jumps online to play for a couple of hours, but five hours straight all 7 days a week? I'm starting to feel like I have a teenager in the house not a husband. And since he stays up so late, he's eating a fourth meal so now he's also eating like a teenager. When I told him he was acting like a 15 year old boy, he said, "No I'm not, I don't do dumb stuff" I just made a face and he realized the bold lie of his statement. My husband is no dummy, but he's no Einstein either.
                    I told him during a serious conversation that he knows I am not completely happy. He knows that even though I'm good at the domestic role I've taken, I don't always like it. I told him, "I'm living your life, and you're missing it! You're not even enjoying all the things being done for you." And I meant every bit of it. He zones out, and I admit I do too sometimes, but while the children are awake, I'm very much present. And I don't zone out everyday for hours at a time. One time he was so zoned out that he didn't notice that our son had gotten into the cabinet, grabbed a bottle of olive oil (which is not cheap) and poured it all over the floor. He tried to clean it all up before I got home that day, but was unsuccessful and I noticed the odd sheen across the floor.
                    I am very grateful that I don't have to worry about the big marital fears; infidelity, drug abuse, spousal abuse, bad parenting, financial struggle or any other large problems like that. And while I don't have to fear some glossy lipped hussy stealing my man, I do have to fear the release of a new PS3 game. How do I compete with an electronic device? I suppose I could dress like that tart from Tomb Raider and hope he plays with my buttons. Don't get me wrong, he likes my buttons just fine, it's the loading time he's ignoring. He needs to remember that other people live here, and even though he's a diamond in the rough, we still kind of like him. I'm not going to lie, there are times when I've had my fill of deep conversation - "so what's for dinner?" - and I've told him, "Don't you want to play your game for a while?" and it's times like that I don't mind the game. I just wish he'd put as much effort into me as he does into finding the other team's flag.

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