Pillow Talk

Our day ended as it always does.  Prayer, cuddle, kiss. . .

Me: "I love you."
Him: "I love you, too.  You should really go to sleep now."
Me: "Yeah. . . . I will."
Him:  "You know the only good thing about you being sick?  The only, ONLY good thing?  YOU LISTEN."

Him being him: "You should go to bed now."
Him being me: "Bed - schmead."

Him being him: "You should eat some meat today."
Him being me: "Your mom eats meat."

Me (trying to talk around the giggles): "Just what you always wanted.  An obedient wife."
Him: "Yeah, right."

See, I have this problem.  The minute someone tells me to do something, I want to do just the opposite.  It is so automatic, I usually can't even help it.  This is one reason I enjoy religion.  Obedience requires a discipline that does not come naturally to me, but I find joy in training myself to do what I know is right, even if someone else told me first.

And for all you rabid-anti-man-feminists out there (as opposed to normal feminists) who are all thinking "How dare he tell you what to do?  Don't you let a man control you!"  I say: "Amen, sister!  How dare h. . . . oh, wait."  So remember a couple of months back when I went on this self-improvement kick and said things to him like, "I really think everyone would be happier if I were getting more sleep. . . but I have such a hard time remembering what time it is. . . could you remind me when it is time to go to bed?" and "Wow.  I feel so good when I'm eating enough protein, but it just never occurs to me.  Will you help me?"

So yeah, even when I ask for help, I won't take it.  Maybe there is a silver lining to me not having enough energy for my attitude.