We're Two Opposite Peas in a Salty Pod


It has become clear over the past 14 months of marriage that there are no two people more opposite in taste or social adeptness than Jordan Bumgarner and myself.  

Our first married fight was on our honeymoon road trip to San Antonio. We were maybe three hours into our drive and coming up on lunchtime when Jordan asked me what I had in our "to-go" bag for a snack. I pulled out a chocolate-chip granola bar and an apple. 

An argument immediately broke out over the fact that he needs salty treats, not sweet ones, and what, for the love of the dust bowl, was I doing bringing fruit? Goodness.

Granted, I blame myself. We'd dated for almost two years before getting married, and I knew what snacks he liked. For him, a "salty treat" is basically limited to:
a) a can of dry-roasted peanuts
b) a bag of pretzels 
c) a, b, and anything else with a lot of salt

At that moment I couldn't (still can't) wrap my mind around granola bars being sweet. Seriously, who knew? And an apple? Weirdo. I swear they don't taste sweet to me. 

The salty vs. sweet conversation (read: heated discussion) continues to this day. While I'm finishing off the half gallon of mint chocolate-chip ice cream we picked up at Target the night before, he's going back for a fourth helping of potatoes and fried okra. The positive side of this is that I get most of the ice cream to myself. The negative side to this is that soon I'll weigh 400 pounds and get shipped off to the Biggest Loser campus. 

(By the way, I did find Breyer's mint ch. chip at Target a few weeks ago. I freaked out and did a happy dance right there in the aisle, obviously, and would have bought five half gallons if they weren't already down to one. Later that week I also had no less than four people tell me they saw it and thought of buying me some. I either have the most considerate friends or they're all just sick of me complaining about it.)
So that's the taste opposition. But we are also as opposite as opposite can be in our desire (or not) to be social. Our second notable married fight occurred in our San Antonio hotel and went something like this:

Scene: We've just dropped our bags off in the room, and I've forced him onto the balcony to take a picture. Now we're back inside. 

Me (pacing around the room): So what do you want to do?
Jordan (collapsing on the bed and reaching for the remote): Nothing.
Me (pacing): What do you mean nothing?
Jordan (chanel surfing): I mean nothing. You know, just sit here and watch TV.
Me (unfolding the San Antonio map I'd snagged from the front desk): Let's go exploring!
Jordan (chanel surfing): My feet hurt.
Me: Let's walk to the Alamo!
Jordan: But my feet hurt. And Man vs. Wild is on.

And so it goes.
To say we're opposites would be a huge understatement. If I got down to the fundamental start of every argument we've ever had, it stems from the basic fact that we're just not wired the same way. In considering all the ways we're different, it's actually kind of ridiculous to me that we get along at all. And yet it works somehow, and I wind up thanking my lucky stars that he puts up with me.

He calms me down and makes me think, and I get him to do all sorts of things he hates. Like dancing at our wedding, for one. I've started packing peanuts and pretzels for car trips, and he laces up his shoes and goes exploring with me...most of the time.

Our opposite natures have been especially clear over the past few months. I've had a really difficult time dealing with some tough work stuff, looking for and starting a new job, quitting my old job. In those moments it's glaringly obvious that the way we respond to stress and change and uncertainty is like night and day. Sometimes it's so frustrating I want to pull out my hair, and Jordan's even told me that he wishes I were a dude so he could fight me. (That actually poses an interesting question: Who would win in a fight? Guy Amanda or Jordan? Think about it.)

So far starting a new job has been a harder transition than I hoped for. I miss my friends and the certainty of knowing I'm good at my job and respected by my peers. But that's really another post of it's own. For now, I'll just continue my undercover attempt to get Jordan to like fruit and trick him into going exploring with me using my signature line: 

"But this is the only _____ you'll ever have!" 
For the blank, just enter whatever word you want: 
--27th birthday
--Second Friday of June in 2012

Just make sure to be super dramatic. It works every time. 
Trust me. A little manipulation goes a long way toward happily ever after, especially if you're a pea in a salty pod. 
Unknown said...

Love the title of this post. And I think guy Amanda would totally win b/c girl Amanda has a six pack. So guy Amanda would be ripped. Also, CALL ME FOR VENTING, too.

Allison said...

I love your honesty! We learn lots and lots being married don't we? Oh and for the record...my bet is on guy Amanda. Haha.

Jess said...

I read the first sentence and immediately came to the comment section to let you know that you are completely and totally WRONG. :) What I mean to say is that you are in good company. I'm ten years in and I can tell you that I have the exact same struggles every. single. day. But I love him and we work and I'm glad he puts up with me too.

Also, I laughed out loud when I read "Guy Amanda".

And I love, love, love the picture at the top. What amazing photographer took it??? ;)

LeAnna said...

Super cute pictures!!

And now I must go ask B if he's ever wished I was a dude so he could fight me. And if he says yes, I'm going to punch him in the gut.