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Marie’s Blog – Know When to Walk Away, Know When to Run


Hello, Internet! I’ve been blogging for a couple of weeks now, and since some of you are already familiar with the (much less entertaining) blog of a certain ruggedly handsome DEA agent, you’ve probably noticed that we have our own, ahem, distinct perspective on things.

Example one: Most nights, Hank prefers to spend his free time in the Schraderbrau Brewery, also known as our garage. I, on the other hand, prefer checking out the local Kitchen Things ‘n’ Such for scented candles. (If you lived with Hank, you’d need a lot of scented candles, too.) He gets his jollies over a well-brewed lager, while I prefer to mull over the finer details of home décor. So how do we make it work?

Look, marriage is not easy. To quote my life partner, “That’s why it’s called ‘marriage’ instead of ‘spring break.'” But if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s this: You gotta know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em.

Yes, that’s a line from a Kenny Rogers song, but believe it or not, I do know a thing or two about poker. We’ve had a few Texas Hold’em nights with my sister’s family over the years, and among my fellow players, I am known as something of a card shark — a remorseless predator who lurks beneath the waves, waiting for the chance to pounce on a feeble pair of eights. And woe betide the player who calls my bluff, unless they want to face a bleak future of poker nights without a certain shark’s famous Cheezy Beany Dip.

But as I was saying, sometimes, you have to know when to hold onto an argument, and also know when to hold on even tighter.

For example: A certain person I know recently arrived home showing signs of having rumbled with a Mack truck. And that was just the part I could see. However, given that said person was clearly in no mood to talk about the origins of said bruising, did I press him for details? Yes, I did. And did I continue to press for details even after he had retreated to the garage and locked the door behind him? Yes, I did.

But then it occurred to me that eventually he would blog about the whole thing, and I could get all the details without “pestering” him. We’d both win! So I let him think that I’d forgotten all about it, and sure enough, the next day, he spilled the beans for the whole world to see — including his loving wife.

See what I’m saying? Marriage is all about strategy.

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