So last week, Pat called to tell me that his friend from college would be coming to Cleveland for work and would be staying with us for a night. I was really excited because I love visitors! Pat went on to say that he thought it would be fun if we went to Great Lakes Brewing Company for dinner when he's there. I got even more excited because I love going out to eat and we hardly ever go out to eat during the week! Somehow, though, the communication major misinterpreted the intention of the word "we."
"What time are we going out to eat?" I asked Pat. "Well," he replied with hesitation, "when I said 'we,' I actually meant just us guys. You know, a guy's thing." I tried to play it off like I was totally okay with that, "Oh, it's just a guys thing? Okay. No big deal." But deep down, it was a big deal. I felt an overwhelming sense of rejection.
So right now, they are out to eat and drinking Great Lakes beer while I am left here by myself, eating left over Chinese for dinner. And let's face it, Chinese is never as good the next day. I am also left alone with my thoughts, wondering when I went from being the "cool girlfriend" who could tag along with the guys, to the loser wife who is left at home to take care of the kids. And we don't even have any kids, which makes it even worse. All we have is a dog, who I obviously don't take good care of seeing as he was shredding paper within moments of their departure (you can read more about that here).
Maybe he didn't want me to go because it's a Monday night and he knows they would be watching and talking about a lot of football. Hey, I can talk and watch football, too. For at least 10 minutes, anyway, before I get bored. But I can still contribute to interesting conversations, though. We could talk about the weather, relive BG memories, talk about scrapbooking, etc.
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UPDATE: The guys have been back from dinner for about thirty minutes now and all they are talking about is football, football and more football. I'm bored to tears. Just when I thought there was nothing about football left to discuss, they started talking about fantasy football. Fantasy football conversations then led to a griping session about people who plan weddings during football season. I interjected with my firm belief that weddings should always trump football. Always. They both strongly disagreed with me and suddenly I realized why I wasn't invited to dinner. And guess what? I think I'm okay with it (maybe?).
"What time are we going out to eat?" I asked Pat. "Well," he replied with hesitation, "when I said 'we,' I actually meant just us guys. You know, a guy's thing." I tried to play it off like I was totally okay with that, "Oh, it's just a guys thing? Okay. No big deal." But deep down, it was a big deal. I felt an overwhelming sense of rejection.
So right now, they are out to eat and drinking Great Lakes beer while I am left here by myself, eating left over Chinese for dinner. And let's face it, Chinese is never as good the next day. I am also left alone with my thoughts, wondering when I went from being the "cool girlfriend" who could tag along with the guys, to the loser wife who is left at home to take care of the kids. And we don't even have any kids, which makes it even worse. All we have is a dog, who I obviously don't take good care of seeing as he was shredding paper within moments of their departure (you can read more about that here).
Maybe he didn't want me to go because it's a Monday night and he knows they would be watching and talking about a lot of football. Hey, I can talk and watch football, too. For at least 10 minutes, anyway, before I get bored. But I can still contribute to interesting conversations, though. We could talk about the weather, relive BG memories, talk about scrapbooking, etc.
--------
UPDATE: The guys have been back from dinner for about thirty minutes now and all they are talking about is football, football and more football. I'm bored to tears. Just when I thought there was nothing about football left to discuss, they started talking about fantasy football. Fantasy football conversations then led to a griping session about people who plan weddings during football season. I interjected with my firm belief that weddings should always trump football. Always. They both strongly disagreed with me and suddenly I realized why I wasn't invited to dinner. And guess what? I think I'm okay with it (maybe?).
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