Spouse, Interrupted

My little digs made big holes in our relationship.

By Mandy Houk

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We've all been there. You're talking to a married couple—we'll call ours Mary and George—and George is telling a story. Or at least he's trying to, but he can't get through a sentence without Mary interrupting to correct every tiny detail. Sometimes she does it gently, with a touch on George's arm and a demurely tilted head: "Sweetie, we were at Target, not Wal-Mart." Other times she's a bit more invasive, busting right in with an exaggerated eyeroll: "Honestly, you never get things straight. It was nine o'clock, not nine-thirty. You might as well just let me tell it."

Of course, they go through a similar routine when Mary tries to tell a story and George interrupts: "You know that Mother didn't mean it that way. Why can't you cut her a little slack?"

I'm never sure how to react in these situations. Usually I default to nervous laughter. I have an urge to throw a sympathetic glance at the stymied spouse, but then I run the risk of stepping into the middle of the fray and making things worse.

As uncomfortable as these situations can be, there's something far worse. It's when I realize, mid-eyeroll, that I've done it myself and my husband was the victim.

The worst incident I can recall was when I did it in front of our entire church. Into a microphone.

My husband and I lead Bible studies for married couples at our church. Every now and then, we're asked to make an announcement during the service about what we'll be studying next. It was on one such Sunday that Pete gave what I believed was the wrong start date for our next study. Desperate to correct the error, I smiled, leaned in close to the microphone, and corrected him. He smiled and repeated the date he'd already said. At that precise moment, with a horrible, squirmy feeling in my stomach, I realized that he was correct and I was not.

And so, with all the grace and dignity I could muster, I took hold of the microphone and pulled it toward my mouth. Because my voice wasn't amplified enough the first time. I said, "Well, our last study was 'communication.' Maybe we should do that one again!"

In my defense, I actually intended that last dig for myself: I had not listened to Pete, so I didn't know the date of our new study. But when church was over, it became apparent that everyone thought I was criticizing Pete's speaking skills rather than my listening skills. Men jokingly comforted Pete. Women grinned and winked at me. I attempted to explain, but I was working against thousands of years of civilization. Everyone knows that spouses dig at each other, not at themselves.

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Originally published in: Marriage Partnership, 2008, Summer, Page 27

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