Marital mindfuck

My mother used to tell us that if we were ever considering marrying someone, we should not look at how much we love their good traits, but only wonder if we can live with their flaws. Not the worst advice I've ever heard. When you're newly in love, it can seem endearing if your lover picks his toes every night (I swear this one really is a fictitious example as that would be a serious deal breaker for me), but when it's ten years later and the baby is teething and you haven't slept in a week, this once cute little habit will have lost all of its charm.

I'm reading Elizabeth Gilbert's Committed - the sequel to Eat, Pray, Love. I had told myself not to buy it, but then I couldn't resist it in the bookshop because the blurb on the cover promised that it was "irresistably confessional." I regretted picking it up immediately when a most cosmopolitan traveller came up to speak to my most intellectual looking sister and there I was, holding the ultimate in chick-lit. But I do love a good confession, I must admit, and while a fictional confession can be fun, there is no better kind than a real-life look at how the neighbours are doing. (Which is why I'm a sucker for a good confessional blog, as some of you know.)

At one point in her book, Elizabeth Gilbert's boyfriend basically paraphrases my mother's bit of wisdom and then follows a scene in which Liz and her lover list their own faults to each other , in preparation of their impending marriage. (The idea being that they can't complain later, because now they've been warned of what's to come.)

While obviously it's too late for Babes and I to attempt to do the same, it might still be an interesting exercise for us after more than eleven years institutionalised and nearly seventeen ensnared. I wonder - would we get it right? Would the faults we list be the ones that drive the other crazy on occasion? Do we know ourselves well enough by now to know the most awful side of ourselves?

I'm half tempted to try this tonight and compare notes. On the other hand, while neither Babes or I pick our toes nightly so at least in that respect we'll be fine, we do have the sleepless nights and the three small children to contend with, so it may be better right now to let sleeping dogs lie. If there's one thing we don't need, it's an extra source of stress.

The reverse exercise may be more beneficial, and in a way more interesting. I'm thinking that by now our respective flaws are pretty much obvious. They would be the bits that follow the "You always..." and "You never..." of the standard matrimonial argument. What might still have the power to surprise us, is if we made a list each of the other partner's strengths. I'm still not sure what exactly Babes likes best about me, apart from my fabulous body of course. I'm not even sure if he's ever put much thought into it. I think I have a fair idea of what I like about him, but does he know?

It's probably wiser to let this second list be as well right now. What if Babes' list ends up with only two items on it, both anatomical? What if I miss out a stellar trait which Babes considers central to his character? This may be rather sobering to both of us. (I suppose it's not a very modest thing to do either, to say to your man "Hey sweetie, will you make a list of all the ways in which I'm fabulous, please? Thanks, honey - oh, and could I have it in triplicate and laminated, please?" Yeah, perhaps not good.)

Actually, I think I may just give all marital mindfuck games a miss for a while. At least until we've had some sleep. Or perhaps until Charlie's in school. Or maybe until pigs fly, as on reflection it seems rather unwise to tinker with a (mostly) functioning marriage.