Scraps - Noodle Therapy

“Okay, so, you want me to hit you with this,” Katie held up the pool noodle in her hand with speculation, “because it’ll help me feel better?”

“It’s not about feeling better, it’s about, you know, getting all that pent up aggression out,” I sighed and tapped the pool noodle in my own hand against my thigh.

“What pent up aggression?” Katie asked. I let out an exaggerated exhale toward the sun in response.

The two of us had been facing each other in my parent’s backyard for the past ten minutes in this odd Mexican stand-off. Katie was still trying to wrap her mind around why I would possibly want to engage in an activity where two grown adults hit each other with pool noodles in the attempt to shatter the ‘aggressive marital tension’ that we may have lingering between us. Those were my mother’s words when the idea was recommended, not mine.

I attempted to try this from a different approach. “Haven’t you ever had a time where you were just, like, really mad at me but you didn’t know how to deal with it?” 

Katie screwed up her mouth as she seemed to think before shrugging with a bright smile. “Not really, no. I mean, babe, we talk about everything. Whenever one of us has a problem, we talk about it. Isn’t that what we always say? Communication is key?”

“Yes,” I drawled. “However, there are times when you do little things that get under my skin. You know, little irritations.”

“What do you mean?” Katie’s sunny disposition morphed into a scowl in an instant and I knew that I had somehow stepped in it. 

Shit. “Well…” Fuck. “Um, let’s see…” Shit. Fuck. How do I play this?

“Stop stalling Lil,” Katie said flatly.

“Okay, um, well…” This one’s not too bad right? “Every time you order a burger with onions you just pick them off and I’m like, why not just order without? Why take the trouble of taking them off yourself.”

“Why does it even matter? Why bring it up?” 

“That would be like me asking why you don’t just eat the onions in the first place.” The two arguments were nothing alike. I disregarded my own flawed logic and met her expectant stare with my typical foolhardy confidence instead.

“I hate the taste and I hate the texture more. Your turn.” Katie cocked a brow up, a signal that I might be treading dangerous waters; I risked it anyways.

“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “it just bugs the shit out of me.”

“Hmm,” Katie hummed. “Well. Do you know what bugs the shit out of me?”

“No?” I said cautiously, already feeling a strange energy welling up in Katie.

The blows began to rain down on me everywhere from Katie’s pool noodle before I even heard her voice floating over me. “When you don’t buy the right fucking peanut butter!”

Katie hit me all over with her pool noodle. My face, my back, my chest, all four limbs, you name it. The blows didn’t hurt at all but the relentless fury of them made it hard to steady myself against Katie’s attacks. Eventually I dropped my own noodle to cover my head with both arms. This was a big a mistake.

“Seriously, Lil?” Katie screeched, scooped up my noodle and continued her assault with both arms now. “Who the fuck buys extra crunchy peanut butter? What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“I don’t know!” I wailed under the cover of my arms. I was torn between laughing and running in terror from my crazy wife and the enraged crusade that she was trying to take out on me via pool noodles. 

It was only after I thought of this that I did begin to laugh. That was the worst mistake that I could have made though. Katie only got more furious the more I laughed and the more mad she got, the harder she hit me, which only made me laugh more hysterically.

“You think this is funny? It’s not funny? This is fucking serious, Lil! Lil! Goddammit stop laughing for one fucking second!”

I took a knee, doubled over in laughter so hard that I could barely breathe with Katie beating at my back with both pool noodles. My mom came out while all of this was going on with a pitcher of lemonade and a couple of glasses on a platter. She eyed the scene that was playing out between Katie and I for a lingering moment before setting the platter on one of the small patio tables.

“I’ll just leave this here for when you two finish your, er, therapy,” Mom said with a smile before scurrying back inside with a muted giggle.

“Okay, okay,” I panted once we were alone again. “I surrender.”

Katie’s attacks ceased and I breathed out a sigh of relief. The next moment I was laying flat on my back from Katie tackling me to the ground, a sly smirk playing across her lips. It would seem that she would make good on my promise of surrender by properly pinning me. She plopped down on my waist and leaned forward to rest her arms on my chest.

“You’ll only buy creamy peanut butter from this day forward?” Katie asked speculatively.

“I promise,” I said with a nod and then crossed my heart with one finger for good measure.

Katie eyed me for another long minute before she seemed convinced my words were genuine. “Okay. You better follow through on that though. Or else,” Katie lifted one of the pool noodles for me to see and then bounced it off my nose lightly, “pap.”

I chuckled and grabbed her face with both hands before planting a quick kiss to her lips. “Trust me, I’ll remember this lesson.”

“Mm, good,” Katie murmured and kissed me twice more, soft and slow, before she popped up with all of her typical energy. She offered me a hand and helped me to my feet before immediately leaning against my side. “Now that we have all that marital aggression out, how about some of your mom’s lemonade?”

“I’m down for the lemonade,” I said and slung an arm around Katie’s shoulders, “but if you think that all of our marital aggression is out and dealt with then you have another thing coming.”

“Good point.” Katie nodded. “Refreshments and then go back out for another round?”

I grinned and kissed the side of her head. “I’m game.”