In the Doghouse
It is Thursday, so it must be time for another deep post from the keyboard of this Demystifying Diva.Today's topic comes from yet another conversation with the increasingly famous Andrew. Andrew's quandry surrounded The Reverse Doghouse or The Doghouse Turnaround. Andrew really wanted me to rat-out all women everywhere for what he saw as this evil and unfair relationship manuever. Andrew surely wasn't surprised when I refused to go turncoat, but he may have been surprised when I denied any knowledge of this strategy.
The Doghouse Turnaround, as I understand it, is the ability of women to turn the gotcha around when confronted by their mate. Men, it seems, spend quite a bit of time in the casa de perro and are eager to put the ladies in there every once in a while.
Therefore, when the opportunity presents itself, the man seizes the moment and gives her a good chastisement.
However, Andrew complains that all too often his attempts to turn the tables are rebuffed. In effect, she counters his chastising with more of her own and he lands back in the land of fleas and ticks.
Clever, no?
I was so amazed that anyone would be this wily. I wouldn't even know how to do it, or so I thought. In fact, I told Andrew that I had no idea what he was talking about. I am a nice girl and I would never do something so mean.
But, as it turned out, a few days later I was talking to Prince Charming and asked him if he had ever witnessed this phenomenon. I asked him, "Have I ever done this?" and he got that look.
You know the one. This is the look that says I'm laying a trap and he knows it, yet he is unable to avoid it. He says...that I have.
I would have sworn on a stack of bibles that the man has never been sent to the doghouse by me, but apparently I have. I have performed the Doghouse Turnaround, much to my personal shame.
And, it is my original lack of knowledge of the tactic that leads me to my defense of it, and that is that it must be innate.
We ladies, fierce protectors of the nest that we are, must subconciously counter every attack with one of our own. As everybody knows, the best defense is a strong offense. So, I can only say that if I felt cornered, I must have fought my way back out and turned the tide. I assure you in the strongest possible terms that it was not intentional.
Women have better memories than men, and this gives us a steadier supply of ammunition. We may not bark at you everytime you litter the house with your dirty socks, because we don't want to nag, but that doesn't mean that we don't notice it. If you choose to come out, guns blazing, because we didn't close the garage door, we may be forced to revisit the sock issue as a way of seeking middle ground. Or, you know, firing back.
To be perfectly honest, I abhor the entire existence of such a tactic. It implies, by its very existence, a sort of competition between the parties of a relationship that makes me unhappy. I am an optimist and would like to believe in the good nature of people in love. I'd like to think that people who care about each other wouldn't seek opportunities to play gotcha. What kind of a relationship is it if you are constantly scouting out snipers in bell towers and camouflaged tanks on the horizon?
That isn't healthy! That isn't the kind of behavior that prolongs a relationship, if you know what I mean. Nobody wants to live in an environment where they are constantly in peril.
Throw off these silly and counter-productive strategies. Don't seek to put your mate in the doghouse, it is eversomuch better if they are in bed beside you.
In that vein, I have to thank Andrew for making me aware of this phenomenon. Certainly in future I will endeavor to take my lumps from Prince Charming rather than make him feel beleaguered by the surly nag to whom he's married.
I am, as always, your humble (if feathered-boa wearers can be humble) servant (if by servant we really imply something much less menial),
