Please Settle This,
This is going to sound small. I promise you it does not feel small.
Devin and I both work long days. Dinner is the one time we actually sit across from each other. For the first two years, it was my favorite part of the day. We would talk about everything, the weird guy at his gym, my sister’s drama, what we would name a boat if we ever bought a boat. (The Settled Down. I still think that is a great name.)
Somewhere along the way, the phone joined us. First it was face down on the table. Then face up, "just in case work texts." Now it is propped against the salt shaker, playing videos.
Last Thursday I made his favorite: short ribs, three hours in the oven. I lit a candle. I put on the playlist from our first trip. He sat down, said "this looks amazing, babe," and then watched a man restore a rusty knife for twenty-five minutes. He laughed out loud twice. Not at anything I said.
I finally said, very calmly, "Could we maybe do dinner without phones?"
He put it down, looked at me, and said, "You are on yours all the time too. You were literally on it this morning in bed."
And here is the part that is eating me up: he is not completely wrong. I do scroll in bed. I check my email at red lights. But dinner was supposed to be ours. I did not think I needed to make a rule about it.
Now every dinner feels like a test. If I pick mine up to show him a photo, he raises his eyebrows. If he leaves his in the other room, he makes a big show of it, like he is doing me a favor.
Am I wrong for wanting dinner to be phone-free? Or am I being a hypocrite?
Signed,
Talking to the Top of His Head
Letters are written by NowSettled from the disputes people search for. Names and details are made up.
