Familiar Refrains

In the second season finale of the BBC sitcom Coupling (which, thanks to Hulu, the reason I am a terrible graduate student, you can watch here), Steve and Susan, the show's main, um, couple, realize that they've reached the end of the beginning of their relationship.  Does that make sense?  I didn't think so.  Basically, they're noticing that the relationship is more settled and less brand-spanking new.  They're worried that they're becoming...boring.  That the fireworks have gone out.  Etc.  They can tell that something is changed because they're each starting to notice teensy little things about the other person that are, all of a sudden, SO ANNOYING.  Steve wonders why their apartment is covered in shoes, shoes, so many shoes, and Susan wonders why she finds herself living with "an oversized toddler who wants his dinner."

They also start to recognize the other person's familiar refrains.  For Susan, it seems like all Steve ever says is, "It's up to you."  Which wine with dinner?  "It's up to you."  Which shirt should I wear out?  "It's up to you."  Which channel do you want to watch?  "It's up to you."  And for Steve, it seems like the only words to ever come out of Susan's mouth are "Where are you going?"  Whether he's getting up from the sofa, moving throughout the apartment, or shifting his position in bed, Susan is constantly asking where he's going.

SO.  The other day Preston and I were sitting together in the study.  We were each sitting at a desk chair, and the conversation had kind of petered out - we were both staring blankly into space.  Finally, Ness or Callie moved, shaking us out of our haze.  Preston turned his desk chair back to the computer and I stood up and said, "OK, well I'm going to go to the bathroom."  "Sounds good," said Preston, looking straight at the computer.

And as I was walking to the bathroom, I realized that I had actually just taken the time to tell my husband that I was going to the bathroom.  That I had wasted valuable oxygen sharing the information that I was travelling two rooms over to pee.  MARY FRANCES.  WHO ARE YOU?  And to add insult to injury, that my husband had told me that that "sounded good," like he approved my decision to pee.  WHAT.

And then last night when we were talking about the upcoming weekend, I told Preston that I'd bought my bus tickets and that I'd be leaving Bryn Mawr on Friday evening.  I told him why I'd decided to go up Friday instead of Saturday, told him all my plans for Saturday, and then told him when I'd be back on Sunday.  And when I was finished talking, without a beat he responded, "Sounds good."

And then I had that moment when the glass shattered and I realized that that is ALL PRESTON EVER SAYS.  Everything I suggest "sounds good."  It is an automatic response  - whether I'm telling him about my decision to take a Friday night bus, to make biscuits for dinner one night, to buy a new bra, or to go to the bathroom, my decisions always "sound good."  Lucky me.

As I thought more and more about it, however, I realized that he isn't the only one with a familiar refrain.  I am constantly - CONSTANTLY - asking Preston if he is ok.  I'll walk into the den to see him sitting on the sofa contentedly with his laptop and all of a sudden I stop in my tracks and ask, "You ok?"  I walk into the kitchen when he's making pizza and, without even looking at him ask, "Are you ok?"  I mean, good God, Mary Frances, does he ever appear to be in mortal danger when you ask him this question?  No?  Well then I'm PRETTY SURE HE'S OK.  So when I mentioned this phenomenon to Preston last night, I could see the glass shatter before he laughed and said, "Yeah, you're right.  You do say that all the time."  It's a reflex - just like "sounds good," I say it without thinking.

Unlike Susan and Steve, however, I am TOTALLY fine with the fact that our relationship is no longer in its beginning stages.  Moreover, I'm glad that it's not in the beginning stages, because holy wow that was a lot of awkward.  I love where we are now.  I love that we know each other's rhythms, nuances, and quirks - that we can anticipate the other's reaction before it happens, and that we are attuned to the slightest shift in attitude or mood.  I love less that I am constantly asking Preston if he is ok, that I share the groundbreaking news that I am going to the bathroom, and that regardless of what I propose, he always responds that it sounds good.  At the end of the day, of course, I wouldn't trade anything, but still...maybe that's something for us to work on. 

Sound good?