A Dreadful Question

I made the biggest mistake today. I asked THE question I vowed I would never ask. No, not the, “when is the baby due?” question, I’m not that dumb. Let me explain.

I remember when I was asked for the first time. Porter and I had only been married like five seconds and we ran into someone I hadn't seen in a while.

Friend: “Hey, how was the big day?”

Me: “The best, thanks for asking.”

(But seriously, it was the best. The dance party was off the hook.)

Friend (right in front of Porter): “Soooo, how is married life?”

What kind of stupid question is that? Porter is standing right there, what am I going to say?

“OH. MY. GOSH. It is the worst thing ever. I wish every second of my life that I was single again.”

I mean really. DUMBEST QUESTION EVER. Don’t ask me it because I will no doubt give you an exaggerated answer like I have stated above (jokingly, of course).

However, I made the mistake of asking it today. It makes me sad to realize I have succumb to asking stupid questions (because there is such a thing). I know there are people whom I have never met that read this blog (queue crazy lady who writes me incredible hate mail), so let me just give you a glimpse into what my life is like.

I’m seriously so awkward when it’s silent. I panic and I hate when conversations fall into a rut, because I try to save them and it doesn’t go well.

Anyways, I stopped by Wal-Mart during my lunch break to check out their Duck Dynasty swag. (Side note: Seriously, if you aren’t watching Duck Dynasty, you are missing out on the best show on television. Even better than New Girl. Boom, I said it.)

I was just looking around because I have a younger brother who is obsessed with all things redneck. I feel bad for him because literally no one in my family is particularly passionate about hunting, fishing, etc. and poor Kirk is in love with it. His dream is to grow up, buy the state of Montana (what?), and live in the middle of nowhere so people won’t bother him. Strangest life goal, I know.

Anyways, I was walking around when I bumped into an old friend/acquaintance (I use the “/” because I totally forgot her name and I feel like you can’t call someone your “friend” if you don’t at least know their name.)

She was there with her husband, which I knew was her husband, because of their matching wedding rings…so tender. She started asking me a bunch of questions, then I asked her a couple questions, and then it got to the point where I should have said, “Well, it was good to see you again,” and then walked away.

But, of course, I’m not that graceful.

Me (standing next to life size Uncle Si cut out): “So do you like Duck Dynasty?”

“Friend”: “No way, I’m not really into trashy TV.”

Timeout: Now that I think about it, I would have never followed up with this question if she hadn’t just insulted my taste in television. I mean she didn’t know I secretly want to be a Robertson sometimes, but still.

Me (panicking because I have no idea how to follow such an insulting statement: “Oh…uhhh….well, how is married life.”

“Friend”: “Good.”

Awkward silence.

Me: “Well, that’s nice.”

Awkward silence.

I didn’t know what to do, so I did the only logical thing someone like me could do. I picked up the Uncle Si throw pillow, I looked at the girl, and said, “I actually really love this show. And you should too.”

Then I just walked away. I hate myself right now.

Until next time,

Carlie