The other night, while watching a documentary, I turned it off 30 minutes in and started hysterically crying. Which led to this conversation:
Me: "I don't understand how you're not crying right now."
Ian: "If I'm crying, something is seriously wrong."
Me: "I don't understand. I cry on a weekly basis."
Ian: "Yes, I'm aware."
Silence.
Me: "Like, not even just sadness, happiness, too."
Ian: "I know. You almost cried the other day when Rauri did something cute. You've told me that you have a weekly "good cry" in the shower. This isn't normal."
Me: "It's my normal."
Ian: "Which isn't normal."
Silence.
Me: "I feel like, if I'm between, say, a 1-4 or a 6-10, I'm crying. I basically have to be right in the middle, emotionally, or I'm just crying. I can't be too happy or too sad. I mean, my boss has seen me cry on multiple occasions over both."
Ian: "If I ever cried in front of my boss, I'd quit my job in that moment."
Me: "Which would definitely make me cry."
Ian: "Also, just so you know, if you ever catch me "having a good cry," that's when it's time to commit me."
Me: "Good to know."
Ian: "The sad part is that I won't know when to commit you."
Me: "Probably when I stop crying."
Ian: "Noted."
That same night, after leaving the TV on in the other room, yet turning off the documentary, Ian and I had the crying conversation in the bedroom while Fiona was fast asleep in the living room. After about 45 minutes of talking, there was an eerie red glare coming from that room.
Me: "Is that the tv that's red? Why all of a sudden is the tv red?"
Ian: "I think the Netflix screen went into sleep mode and it's a picture of something red."
Silence.
Ian: "Or the baby is on fire. One or the other."
Me, laughing: "Well now I have to go double-check that she's not on fire! I mean, I'm 99% sure she's not, but I'd feel terrible if I didn't check."
Ian: "Who says we're not good parents?"
Me: "Most likely our kids, when they can speak."
For the record, she was not on fire. So we're amazing parents.
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