Ted and Trudy had been married forever; four years, in fact. Each still said he or she was in love. Still, each found himself or herself dreading the drive home after work.
Their marriage counselor tried. “What you need is to find and speak each other’s love language,” she said.
Ted and Trudy tried.
Physical intimacy didn’t touch on the issue. Spending quality time together made the evening drag on and on. Neither received gifts presently. Words of affirmation didn’t speak to either of them. And we won’t even mention how self-absorbed each became when performing acts of service.
It wasn’t until Ted finally snapped and complained about it all that Trudy felt an unexpected spark.
“Ooooh. Say that again, Ted,” she cooed.
Ted blinked. “Uhhh… the counselor’s charging way too much for something that’s not working?”
“Yes, Ted! Yes! What else isn’t working?”
“Uhh…” he thought for a minute. “That plumber we hired this morning was late, incompetent, and left a mess.”
Trudy sat up and perked up. “What else??”
“No one knows how to drive anymore?” He was starting to get excited as well.
“Whenever I go shopping, I can’t ever find a good clerk! How difficult is it to know where the polos are?”
“Ohhh, Ted.” She drew right up to him. “What else?”
“The governor’s an idiot and this country’s being run by imbeciles!”
Their counselor was surprised to see them practically bouncing at their next (and last) appointment.
“We did it!” Trudy gushed. “We found our love language!”
“Oh?” the counselor asked, intrigued. “Which is it?”
Ted and Trudy looked at each other, smiled; then, in unison, answered, “Complaining!”
©2021 Chel Owens