PPD

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I’m sure many of you have thought, while reading this blog, “Man, it would be so cool to be married to this hilarious, attractive woman. The way she writes is so witty, and I bet she has nice eyes.”

You don’t have to feel embarrassed. I get it; I can be very charming.

However, while my sense of humor can make me a delightful life-partner, it can also be a bit of a liability. I sometimes have a problem knowing where to draw the line. Other times I know exactly where to draw it, but I deliberately choose not to, and instead run over it at full speed laughing. This usually occurs when I am around a group of people.

When the line is crossed, I often find myself on the receiving end of the “PPD.” The PPD is a term I learned from my mother, who learned it from one of her married friends. It stands for “post-party discussion” and it’s a couple’s polite way of saving their argument for the car on the way home.

Allow me to give an example: Let’s say I’m at a party with my husband, and I am being charming and hilarious. Everyone is loving my story about that time I went to Lilith Fair, and I am high on life. Then someone says something that reminds me of this other hilarious story I know. The story is so funny, and perfect for this setting, and I am sure people will want to hear it – but there’s a catch: it’s a story about my husband, and I know for a fact he does not want me to tell it.

Here I find myself in a quandary: one the one hand, I love to make people laugh. On the other hand, I love when my husband is not mad at me.

To solve the problem, I weigh how many laughs I will get against how mad he will be. If it’s really funny but he’s going to be a little annoyed, I go for it. If it’s only kind of funny and stands the risk of him getting super mad, I call it off. That’s called compromise, people. It’s called marriage.

 

I have faced this decision many times. Sometimes my predictions are dead-on, and I face the PPD with my head held high. Sometimes I misjudge the situation, and need to make amends by saying things like “Hey, you are really smart and our kids love you more than me and your hair looks good today.” I’m also pretty good at eye-batting.

I like to think that this little foible is part of the beautiful, complex person with whom my husband fell in love, and that – even though I make mistakes – he wouldn’t have me any other way. But I’m pretty sure that’s not true.

In fact, we may have to coin new phrase: PBD -- Post Blog Discussion.