Negotiations, permutations and undulations

Jonathan Gitelson, from the Dream Job series

The boyfriend and I negotiate everything from the moment we wake up to the hazy fog of our slumber. A morning ritual might go something like this:

It's your turn to make the coffee. I made it yesterday. I did the dishes. I bought the groceries. I'll make us dinner...

While the evenings' plays out more like an Abbot and Costello routine:

Did you take the dog out? I didn't take the dog out. But you said you would take the dog out. Yeah, but the dog didn't seem to need to be taken out. Can you take the dog out now? I can't take the dog out now....

And so it goes. Future deals are bartered, past ones invoked and present ones renegotiated. Each has to feel like the other is engaged in some kind of compromise, or all bets are off. It's an art at which we are becoming highly skilled, a habit to which we are now accustomed and just an oddly practical way of being in a relationship. No matter if it's returning the DVD to Blockbuster, which side of the bed to sleep on, or at what time and in what way we should be having sex, the negotiations are deliberate, quite often fervent, and most importantly, necessary to the health and well-being of our relationship.

Although romance has not been high on our list of accomplishments thus far, there are more important ways–my boyfriend likes to inform me–in which one can prove oneself. After all, when we are diapered and forgetful, wheel chaired and cataract'd, when no one else will want to hang around, romance and it's illusions will be useless. Dependability–with a concise set of instructions–will be much more helpful.

I like that my boyfriend challenges me on my ingrained, and un-feminist notions, but why must they be so hard to shake? And if I can't train my dog - nor my boyfriend - to bring me flowers and chocolate–ok, in my case it would be more like potted cacti and well, yes, still chocolate–will someone advise me who I can train?