Marriage Below Sea Level

I truly don’t understand the modern family. It was Sunday, so I knew everybody, who wasn’t at their country house, was at brunch….New York’s favorite weekend pastime.

There I was serenely eating my avocado and walnut salad when a family of four came in: a husband, wife and five-year old twins…a boy and a girl.

Now I’m thinking, I’m such a great tipper plus the place is empty, why does the waiter seat them right next to me? It’s most disconcerting. The only benefit is that after forced observation, I’m getting an essay out of it.

The wife looks seriously pissed while the husband skillfully pacifies. The kids are so badly behaved it’s scary. I have two words for the little darlings- reform school.

How did this happen? Where is the joy that seems to be at large?

I’m sitting there thinking how I dodged a bullet not getting married after watching them for five minutes. When I think I spend so much time in regret wishing I had a big wedding, a husband and child of my own I could laugh out loud. I look at their misery you could cut with your bread knife and feel, wow, am I lucky to be alone and single…even on Christmas and News Years. Who ever would have thought.

I’m only half serious, but you should have been there.

Why do people expect other people to make them happy? The missus clearly was disappointed over something. Isn’t it good enough that she has, what appears to be, a nice life? Things aren’t always what they seem, no one knows that better than me, but is it so hard to look at one’s blessings? The kids, though demonic, were healthy and cute. Her husband wore one of those halos of a weeding band to keep all skirts away. A wedding ring tells the world, I’m taken…at least it’s supposed to.

I can tell you this, I can see that fella slipping that ring into his pocket just to have a friendly female smile at him for an hour.

Women…brats.

Men…stooges.

Kids…you can always see what type of adults they’re going to be…in this case, spoiled and entitled.

I finished my lunch and Jane Austen and I got the hell out of there.

Jane said, “In my day we at least pretended to be happy.”

I nodded.

Sometimes it pays to just ‘act as if.’

SB

About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
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10 Responses to Marriage Below Sea Level

  1. micklively says:

    It is amazing how much folk can have and yet still be discontent. If they’ve their health, each other, and funds enough to eat out in Manhattan, they have no just cause to complain. There are millions who live every day in fear, without food, clean water or shelter, and little or no prospect of improvement.
    Happiness is rooted in realistic expectations. Sure, we can strive and compete, no-one wants to stagnate, but be content.

    Like

    • New York is the capital of discontentment…I see it daily, especially in my entitled neighborhood. Not to sound Amish, but I am so grateful for every little thing, almost too much so. In 12 Step they suggest you make a gratitude list at the end of each day to keep you in touch with your blessings that let me tell you, get real basic. You’re right Mick…food, shelter and clean water make the top ten every time.

      I try not to judge others but boy, is one tempted.

      Like

  2. skinnyuz2b says:

    How do you measure wealth? In my last post, I measured (as a kid) wealth with unlimited ice cream, mountains of comic books, and baby raccoons, all found at my rich cousin’s house.
    As I’ve gotten older, I find that the more content I am with what I’ve got, the happier I am. My wealth is now measured with health, happiness, and family. And yes, I’m human, and envy pops up on a regularly scheduled basis.
    And Susannah, have you noticed that when we pretend to be happy, after a little while, we actually are happier? Funny how that works.

    Like

    • Yes, there’s definitely something to acting as if…but one needs to be patient. You reminded me of my cousins who loved in Easton and had lots of pets. I was a city girl, but loved and envied everything about their lives. They were a little older than me and arrogant as hell as I remember, while I was a chubby, overly sensitive. little Cancerian girl. Didn’t stop me though from going to visit every chance I could…cats, dogs…woods. I even loved how they had braided area rugs rather than the wall-to-wall carpeting we had. There seemed to be more space and air in Easton. Thanks for invoking that Skinny. I appreciate it.
      1950suburbanadventures.wordpress.com x

      Like

  3. D. D. Syrdal says:

    People, things, nothing’s ever enough. We’ve all been brainwashed by Madison Avenue that we can’t be happy unless we keep consuming. Those kids were probably spoiled rotten, and ruined for life. Too bad there’s no reset button on life.

    Like

  4. katecrimmins says:

    Your commenters have responded to the “stuff doesn’t make you happy” part but I have just one question. Why do wait staff always sit people without children right next to squirmy kids? Even when the place is empty! Is this our punishment?

    Like

    • Yes, let’s address that. I was so annoyed and it’s the second time it’s happened. The first was when they sat an older man, and I don’t mean someone either one of us would have been dazzled by, right next to me who started talking even after I said I couldn’t hear him, which at the time was true. It was awful. I must speak to them if I go back…and who am I kidding..of course I’ll go back…they give me almost a whole avocado in lieu of blue cheese, something I loathe.

      Like

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