When a man and a woman marry, there are adjustments, even for people like Ken and me who came from similar backgrounds. During those early days when we were getting used to living together, I often thought of the outspoken, young Japanese woman who was my friend while I was in the TB sanitarium a couple years earlier. Her husband was an Illinois farmer who had been stationed in Japan with the air force. I can’t even imagine their many differences.
Food seems to be one of the big hurdles. The first Christmas Day I ate a turkey dinner with Ken’s foks, I was relieved when his mother’s dressing tasted similar to Mom’s. It’s one of those dishes that has many variations. One of my friends told of choking down her mother-in-law’s oyster stuffing every Thanksgiving.
I liked to cook and Ken had a big appetite, but mealtime brought our first disagreement. The problem arose when we finished eating and each of us reached for a toothpick. My family had always used the flat ones; he preferred the round ones.
It was definitely a small problem, but as an only child, I never learned to negotiate, compromise and just plain give in. I was in charge. I couldn’t see any compromise and I didn’t want to give in. It took awhile for me to figure out my grocery bill wouldn’t be any higher if I bought two boxes of toothpicks at a time–one of each. The holder that sat in the middle of the table easily held some round and some flat toothpicks. That set the stage for coming to terms with future differences.
How have you reached a compromise with those you share a home with?