CA said recently that it seems like Saresh and I never fight (other people have said this to us as well). We don’t really fight – I don’t know if we just got all that out of our systems before we got married (we did fight then), but I’m glad we don’t fight now. I think we had enough D.R.A.M.A. just trying to get married that it’s really hard to get worked up about anything now – most stuff just doesn’t seem important, or just seems petty in comparison.

CA’s comment did make me think of the one thing that does set both our blood to boil though – if we compare the other person to their parents. That we’ll fight about.

I don’t even get it. We both love our parents (and LIKE them) and maintain close relationships with them, but don’t you dare compare us to them! Have you ever heard that old adage about how girls end up marrying their fathers and boys their mothers? I think we did the exact opposite. You could find some similarities between Saresh and my dad, which is partly why they get along, but I think overall Saresh is SO different than my dad, and the fact that I even went outside my own race to find him does not escape me either. I think the same thing happened to Saresh – I have some similar girly interests to MIL, but he could not have found a girl to marry more unlike his mother than me.

Last week, I heard Saresh saying something to DD about her being a baby and I got so ticked off that I voiced the forbidden, “You sound just like your parents. You know I don’t like it when they do that.” I could see his face harden immediately and he clenched his jaw. Two days later we had a conversation about it. I made the forbidden statement on a Friday night, and we agreed years ago not to have serious conversations or argue, even if we’re pissed about something, on Friday nights because we’re just overly tired at the end of the week and liable to say things we don’t mean, or just get in petty fights about nothing. This practice has served us well, and in this case we were able to have a rational discussion on Sunday about what he said and also what I said, including a reminder of our tacit agreement not to compare each other to our parents.

If I think Saresh even hints about me being like my mom, I lash out at him. This is dumb – I like my mom and I respect her, both as a mother and as a person. We’re very close. Yes, she can drive me crazy as all mothers can do, but I really like her. So why should I get so upset if he compares me to her? I’ve even noticed that I do certain things the exact opposite of her, just to be opposite – not because I think it’s better. And if he compares me to my dad, I go all psycho-analytic trying to figure out why he would say such an evil thing – “Am I really like my dad? Was I being crazy and irrational? What specifically did you see in my behavior that was dad-like? Do I do it all the time? When?” If I compare Saresh to his mom, a similar phenomenon occurs. It sends us both for a mental roller coaster ride.

To make the whole situation more obtuse, we also argue when one of us criticizes the other’s parents. We don’t want to be compared to them, but we don’t want them to be criticized either (hence this blog, so I don’t have to drive him bonkers with venting). There are times when we don’t mind the parental criticizing, because we know it’s warranted. Like my mom and FIL in the car – they’re like the same crazy person. I was in my mid-20s before I would consent to driving with my mom in the car. She won’t shut up: “Turn up there.” (“Yes, mom – I know the way to my own house. Thanks.”) “You don’t have your blinker on. I don’t think you’re slowing down fast enough. Are you using the brakes? You’re going to hit that car! What are you doing?!” And then she starts making a terrified squealing sound while stomping on the floor, as if there were a magic invisible brake pedal on the passenger side. Saresh had to drive 18 hours in the car with her like that this summer, so I gave him a pass on criticism. FIL is the exact same way. I had to pick him and MIL up at the airport by myself once. I was going to kill him before we got out of the parking garage – MIL even told him to be quiet and leave me alone (which he did not). And both FIL and my mom drive slower than turtles walk, with their backs ramrod straight. Then they turn their entire body whiplash fast to try and see behind them and they can figure out why they have neck and back pain.

But, outside of the car, other criticism is not welcome, even if it is warranted (which it always is on both sides). It’s hard to come up with a legitimate defense of your parents when you know they’re wrong, or just annoying, so we just get irrationally mad at the other person – I get cranky passive aggressive, and he just grinds his teeth the rest of the day. Aaaahhhh, family. No wonder shrinks always want to know about your mother.