Because (Sometimes) I’m Just Immature

Okay, my friend Issa Rae sometimes does this thing on her blog the she calls “Because I’m immature.” It’s one of my favorite features on her blog. And this morning I am facing a “Because I’m immature” moment myself that’s costing me dinner and a show.

Don’t get me wrong, now. Most of the time I act very mature. I handles mine! I work very hard to provide for my family as well as give back to my community, and I give my wife and children as much of my time as I can. Isn’t that the very definition of maturity?

But every now and then the kid kicks in, and I do something crazy and off the wall. And usually when I have these episodes, my wife just happens to be there to witness either the whole thing or, at the very least, the aftermath.

However, after almost eighteen years of marriage, she has grown used to it. Or, perhaps, learned to tolerate it. Most of the time she just shakes her head, tsk-tsk-tsks, and maybe scolds me. However, every now and then, it costs me a dinner and a show or something to make amends for my more crass, egregious moments. Here are just a few that come to mind.

I Maintain a Subscription to Mad Magazine and Fight with My Teenage Son Over the Latest Issue when It Arrives My wife always points out the bookcases of serious books—literature,philosophy, and theory—throughout our home. And then she points out my collection of Mad magazines stacked in a corner of my closet and asks me to explain the correlation. But there doesn’t need to be an explanation. Sometimes I like foolishness, and Mad magazine has been a reliable source of foolishness since I was a child. Besides, all work and no play makes Max a dull, forty-something year old man.

And furthermore, if my son wants to read the new issue first, he needs to get his own subscription.

I Eat Fruity Pebbles from a Big Mixing Bowl while Watching Adult Swim Perhaps my wife would have reason to complain if this was all that I did while she was off working all day. Or if all I did was to sit around all day playing video games, but I don’t play video games; those are for kids.

But I work very hard for very long hours and believe I should be left to my own devices when I get a rare moment to relax. However, she does have a legitimate complaint when I don’t immediately wash my Fruity Pebble bowl. Once Fruity Pebbles dry out, they become like concrete and are almost impossible to get out.

I Eat Candy Incessantly and Swallow My Gum I really can’t explain this one. For some reason I really like candy, especially lemonheads, and because I am grown and can afford to buy lots of candy and no one can keep me from doing so, I can eat as much candy as I want. You can’t stop me. You are not the boss of me!

My wife has pretty much learned to live with this behavior, but after all these years, she still can’t get over the whole swallowing of the gum thing. She says that, first and foremost, swallowing your gum is absolutely gross, but how is this gross? It’s my gum. It would be gross if I swallowed someone else’s gum.

But recently she did have reason to fuss about it. During a rather long road trip, I managed to chew and swallow a whole bag of blow pops. Well, by the time we reached our destination, my insides were all gummed up by all the gum and nothing could pass through.

So as she administered some medication to break my internal logjam, she fussed and fussed and fussed which the children found to be rather humorous.

The Naked Shower Dance So, right before bed my wife begins to tell me this story of something that happened on her job. Well, at first I’m interested, but about an hour or an hour and fifteen minutes into this thing, I’ve lost all interest, and finally I just drift off to sleep.

But not to be undone, she picks up the story in the morning right where she left off. And I’m still cooperating. I’m responding where I’m supposed to respond and expressing surprise and concern where I am supposed to express surprise and concern, but the story does not end.

Finally, she’s in front of the mirror, still talking, and I’m coming out of the shower. Suddenly, a little voice in my head, I believe it was the devil, tells me to back ‘dat thang up! So, I fling the towel aside and begin to back that thing up. She gives me the side-eye but continues talking.

Then the voice tells me to do the naked running man. And of course I oblige. Now she has stopped talking and is just looking at me with this incredulous look on her face which I mistakenly take as a look of appreciation. Finally the voice, which clearly did not have my best interest in mind, tells me to get all up on her and do the prep.

Now she is just plain pissed. She grabs her things and stomps out of the bathroom, leaving me standing there naked and vulnerable and waiting on the voice to tell me what to do next, but the voice has deserted me.

She didn’t answer her phone until the early afternoon, but that was okay because by that time I had perfected my apology and secured tickets to a show she wanted to see.

What things do you or your significant other do that might be considered immature?