They fight on my sofa.
The themes are familiar. He never listens to me. She won’t stop trying to control me.
Thirty minutes, this goes on.
Finally she breaks down and sobs, and he stares angrily off into space.
“Do you guys have a lawn?” I ask.
Betty wipes her eyes, looks at me. Bob, suspecting I’m crazy, frowns.
“With dandelions on it?” I continue. “What happens when you mow dandelions? Right. They come up again tomorrow. Because to remove a dandelion you have to dig up the root.
“This is a dandelion fight,” I say. “You keep having it for the same reason you can’t mow dandelions away. You’re not getting to the root.”
“What root?” Bob asks.
“Two roots, actually. One’s emotional: how you feel right now. You guys never talk about that. Betty, what are you feeling right now?”
She sniffles. “Like he doesn’t love me at all.”
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