The other day I told Rylee (who has a normal, fine vocabulary but wants it to be better, and who has asked me to give her “a vocab word a day” even though I keep telling her there are calendars already made for this purpose) that I did not want to patronize her by assuming she didn’t know what a certain term meant, and then asked her if she knew what it meant. (She didn’t; it was a very internet-y term.) A couple of hours later, she used “patronize” in a way that didn’t make any sense, and so I said “That’s not really what patronize means,” and then she said: “Don’t patronize me about knowing what patronize means,” which was pretty funny.
This conversation came after a weekend in which we spent both mornings fighting. 9:00 am to noon, like clockwork, both days, fighting. Saturday was her fault. Sunday was mine. They were those fights that get started about one thing and all of a sudden they are about families and boys and whether anyone really likes us and if we’re good at anything and which one of us likes the other one more. (I’m serious! Fighting about who likes each other more is ok, as long as both people are doing it.) When we hang out with other people, those other people always give us shit about arguing so much. The thing THEY don’t know is that it’s not really ever about whether or not string theory is worth considering, or whether or not it’s ok to eat the raw cookie dough and how much, or what the exact rules of U-turns are. It’s actually about EVERYTHING.
So yes there are whole weekends wasted fighting but then there is also this: I am allowed to complain as much as I want whenever I want about two or three people that I want to complain about everyday, and have her hate them for me even though she does not know them. (Because why, if you are someone’s best friend, would you try to help her think rationally about what it is in HER that makes her hate these people so much? She knows, already, that this is about her.) And when other things are bothering me (because it’s Monday, because everything from this Monday morning to this Monday afternoon has been annoying), I can go into Rylee’s room without knocking and tell her I want to kick things and have her run with me into the living room and start kicking and punching at the lamp, the fan, the coffee table, making weird and unrealistic “psh! psh! psh!” sound effects at the same time. (Not to promote sexist stereotyping or anything BUT an appropriate and true sexist stereotype is that all girls make the dumbest sound effects and all boys have the worst handwriting.) (JK, mostly.) (Have you seen the way most guys hold pencils? What do you think is going on there?)
Anyways, my point is that sometimes, the most important and healthiest thing someone can do is find this type of person and live with her for as long as possible. It just makes things more tolerable.
ETA: “You do realize though, that NOBODY is going to be surprised if we end up getting married one day.” - Rylee, after she read this. :-/