Happily married Steven suspects that he and his wife do not define “compromise” the same way. “It all started with Barbenheimer. I wanted to see Oppenheimer and she wanted to see Barbie so she suggested that we compromise and go see Barbie and then the next time we go out I could pick.” 

“So did that work out?” our meridian-street reporter asked. “Well, a month later I wanted to go bowling and she wanted to go wine tasting.”

“Let me guess, you went wine tasting.” 

“She used that compromise thing again. I pointed out that she picked Barbie and it was my turn but she argued that movies and activities aren’t the same thing. It sounded reasonable when she explained it.”

“Yet, you are a happy couple.”

“Yeah, but isn’t compromise a two-way thing? During football season I was looking forward to watching a game Saturday morning but she wanted me to help her trim some trees. I told her I’d do it in the afternoon but she said she was planning on shopping in the afternoon but that we could compromise. If I would help with the tree trimming in the morning then I could watch whatever I wanted in the afternoon. I agreed but when I was watching a lousy matchup in the afternoon I realized I could have done that anyway because she was gone.”

“Are you planning on talking to her about what compromise means,” our meridian-street reporter asked.

“Yes. She agreed to talk about it if I fixed the leaky faucet first. When I get done we’ll have that conversation. I think.”

Then Steven went back to fixing the faucet.