or, A Little Psychology Goes a Long Way
“How you wear me down.” grumbled the mortar to the pestle
“It is all very well for you my dear.” remarked the pestle with some peevishness. “You just sit there while I have to go through the daily grind, just to make ends meet.”
“How dare you imply I do nothing! If it weren’t for me supporting your efforts nothing would be done. Just because you think that going to work constitutes a greater contribution in this relationship does not mean I have no role to play.”
“If it weren’t for me “making the bread” so to speak then we would both be in the gutter.”
“And if it wasn’t for me putting up with your endless grinding on then you would be hard pressed to find another so receptive. I have all I can take! I am going home to mother.”
“The truth at last my dear Mortar. And knowing your mother with her heart of stone, I am sure she will applaud your decision.”
“And who wouldn’t you wretched fossil. In fact, I am petrified of your temper. I think I have been in an abusive relationship!”
“That is really rather far fetched don’t you think? What has crystallized this nonsense in your brain?”
“My good friend the trivet was placed directly next to a magazine containing an article about toxic relationships and read all about it. There was something called “gaslighting” I found most interesting.”
“You are completely mad”
“Well my friend the Dinner Party Cook book said you showed all the classic signs of passive-aggressive disorder. All you ever do is sit there, resisting. I never mentioned it before out of consideration for your feelings.”
The mortar showed her contempt for this final remark by lapsing into a sullen silence.
And so the two decided to separate. The mortar, devoid of the pestle, ended up at the back of the cupboard until it was covered in dust and never saw the light of day again. The pestle, who I am sorry to say actually loved the mortar very much despite her implacability, flung himself in a fit of despair behind the stove and was soon forgotten.