Clearly everyone hates to clean the litter box. Z and I bring a truly unfortunate amount of stubbornness to our hatred and our cat’s box would go long periods of time with no emptying. For the bulk of our cat owning time together I blinked first. Because I hated it even more when the cats took a shit outside the box in protest of the disgusting mess inside, so I became the litter box cleaner. I did not accept this job with grace, rather I bitched to him about it as much as humanly possible.
For me the single best thing about pregnancy is not cleaning the litter box. I do love being a mom. I do want my son to be born healthy more than I’ve every wanted anything. But pregnancy and I are not friends. I basically feel like complete shit for 9 months. I remember right after T was born feeling so amazingly free in my body. Having him on the outside was a million times better than having him on the inside.
Back to the litter box. Can I say again how much I love not cleaning it? How much I love telling Z it is full and needs to be emptied (yes, yes, I’m a vindictive bitch). Can I tell you how much he loves it when I’m not pregnant anymore? How much he loves it when we can go back to our passive agressive stand offs which inevitably end with me caving (because he is kind of a turd, too)?
But here is the thing. After my miscarriage he continued to clean the litter box for a really long time. Everything made me cry then and the litter box was no different. I remember telling him I was going to change it and as I walked away I started to cry. He grabbed me and held me and told me he didn’t want me to, that he was happy to do it. I told him that I knew I was being stupid and it really wasn’t a problem. I’d probably be crying no matter what. But he did it anyway. And he continued to do it without asking.
Z and I are not perfect to each other. I mean, we aren’t back in couples therapy for kicks or anything. We need help as much as any other couple out there trying to make it long term. But he is exactly who I want to be with. He’s someone who can let go of a nearly decade long stupid litter box feud in an instant when I’m actually hurting. I really love him for that.
A couple of years ago the awesome guy who does my tattoos told me all he was looking for was a girl he could fart in front of. It made my little crush on him get even bigger. Because yes. I know it doesn’t work for everyone, but I need to be exactly who I am in front of the person I’m with. And I need that person to accept me, gross stuff and all. There is no mystery in Z and my relationship. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I know him, he knows me. And we still love each other. Yes, we drive each other crazy. Yes, we gross each other out. But we not only love each other, we like each other. That makes fighting for our imperfect relationship worth it on the days when we would love to just bail.