Dearest P,

I write to you seeking your always good advice in a matter I find most puzzling, especially since settling in D.C.: a preponderance of couples in which one partner is lovely, charming and warm and the other is, well, not.

As you've come to know me so intimately these past few years, you know it would never occur to me to give people, generally, more than one chance to prove themselves and this could, most certainly, be part of the problem.  Over time, however, I have now learned to account for such issues as shyness and, also, those individuals who might take an instant dislike to me and therefore cannot possibly be bothered to spend any energy on their further interactions. 

But what about those couples, P, in which each is really quite lovely, individually, but the dynamic between them seems preoccupied with the one who tries too hard to please and the other who, well, doesn't?  It's obvious what the cold partner gets, right?  A mate constantly on (usually) his toes trying to satisfy the erstwhile demands of someone who seems to most want to be left alone.  But what, possibly, does the warm and wonderful partner take away from the relationship? 

My current theory, P, is that the lovely partner may, in fact, have a different kind of satisfaction.  Possible, isn't it, that the warm partner, instead of ever complaining to the demanding and stone cold spouse, simply feels a certain license outside the partnership?  That is to say, maybe their own bad habits, whether overeating or picking up hookers, can be rationalized by believing they get so few of their emotional needs met that they are justified in whatever they decide to do that doesn't directly involve their spouse?

A certain urgency suddenly pervades this correspondence, P, as it seems my own precious family thinks I may be entirely warm to everyone who doesn't really matter and deadly to those I most adore.  Unclear whether this means I am the warm or cold spouse, therefore, and if I may need to start perusing the want ads for a certain male masseur.

C.   

Dear C,

I too have long wondered why so many friendly and frequently good-looking people are married to cold fishes, but simply assumed that the frigid spouse in question recognized his or her own deficiencies, and sensibly married the opposite. As for the warmer, cuddlier party in the relationship, I concluded that their sweet nature either precluded them from seeing the true nature of the beast, or that their charm was sufficient to melt even the iciest heart, enabling them to see endearing qualities where others can't. Your explanation, however, while less wholesome, certainly rings more true. One only has to look at Bernie Madoff's wife to know that he must be happier snuggling up to his cellmate in prison. As for yours truly, I too tend to reserve my most visible PDAs for random friends and acquaintances, rather than family, which is why the OBC tends to laugh long and hard whenever anyone describes me as 'sweet.' Ironically, it's also probably the reason I'm the only person in America who thinks Kate Gosselin ISN'T a stone cold bitch; she's just doing what she has to, in order to survive.

P.

Dear C,

I believe I know the tennis-playing doyenne of whom you speak? Looks like Anna Kournikove from behind, all bronzed limbs and bouncing blond curls, but with a face like George Burns when you get close up? To be fair, I have not verified this last fact for myself, but we’ll stick to this story for the oldballandchain’s sake.

If she is the woman I am thinking of, then I believe she likes to tout her ball-playing skills on the local courts as a pro – and I use the term advisedly – as I see her there all the time tossing balls into the air before smacking them, more often than not, resoundingly into the net. Needless to say, this demonstrable lack of any skill has impeded her business not one iota, judging by the steady stream of boys to men lining up to pay hundreds of dollars an hour to put her to work on their own feeble shots. Can’t say I’ve noticed any improvement among her students, as a result, but you should see the chaos one glimpse of her meaty thighs wreaks among the ongoing games on other courts.

My point is, dear C, that you can never judge a book by its cover. A woman who appears to be a member of the idle classes – much like our good selves, some would say – may in reality turn out to be an honest working girl whose need for a nanny is a necessity, not an indulgence – not to mention one of those blondes who look good only so long as you never attempt an approaching shot.

Faithfully,

P.

P,

Alas, the woman I speak of is not only beautiful in the face but also a brunette, so, I assume, she will also age quite well.  I’ve also discovered she is not, as I imagined, a second wife, bound to the children only by a step-mother’s obligation, but has a husband nearly her age and actually bore his young.  Oh, the injustice that exists in this world.  It is truly, I think, our cross to bear, P, that we are forced to notice such inequities. 

Faithfully,

C.

P,

Do hope that phantom pain of yours has disappeared.  Can’t say I was terribly happy to see my daughter and your godchild put in the care of theoldballandchain on so many occasions these past few months, as you were too weak to sustain her two year old energy.  Had me feeling rather guilty to impose upon the family breadwinner.

Did want to let you know, however, that I stand fully behind you on this "support the immigrant worker" day.  I suppose as a stay-at-home mom, who originally hails from the U.K., you do fall into that category–if not technically, then in least in my own generous heart.  Even though your children are in school all day, I do imagine there are things that must be done in their absence which would, again technically, make you a worker, right?  Can’t think what they are at the moment as my own household help manages all this and more for relatively low pay in my absence, but you do always seem to have a furrowed brow and serious purpose when I see you.  Hope that isn’t signs of premature aging.

Anyway, my point is this: you should untie the apron strings, remove the rubber gloves (perhaps after servicing the oldballandchain as these tools do keep things tidier), and refuse to contribute to the household today.  You are, after all, an immigrant, and I firmly believe it is your duty to support your brothers and sisters in need–even if you’re the one left bereft by their absence in your household today.

Hope to see you happily lounging in the back garden chaise as I swing by with your goddaughter.  My own lack of help today forces meet a few clients sans nanny and I don’t suppose if you’re just lying around it would be too much trouble to watch her run about in your playhouse, right?  See you in an hour.

Faithfully,

C.