There comes a point in every marriage when you realize the problems you face are bigger than you and your spouse. When you’ve reached such an impasse, there are three options: rock, paper or scissors. When that doesn’t work, you have to call in professional help.
Baby Daddy and I have hired a negotiator. Some people would call her a decorator. That would grossly understate her contribution. She is going to keep our marriage intact.
Here’s the problem: I love beautiful things and Baby Daddy doesn’t want me to be happy. So we met with the negotiator to find common ground so I could get my way.
I told her she did not have to agree with me. I said I was willing to compromise and accept other ideas. But, hello! She is a fellow Vagina American. I thought she would understand that was a complete lie. Her job was to take my side completely and tell Baby Daddy he was being cruel and unusually mean to me.
But no, she was all reasonable and fair and made good arguments and then TOLD ME I WAS WRONG!! So fine. I will go along with her recommendations and have a lovely home. But I’m taking any compliments we get on it personally and will not give her the credit she deserves because I am a sullen, pouty child about things like this.