Sarge and I went out to eat last night at one of those Japanese steakhouse places. Andrew went to Gramma’s this weekend, so it was Jake, Sarge, and me. We shared a table with a younger couple and their 3 very young children. And I noticed something in retrospect that I find quite sad.

See, Sarge is my best bud. And when we’re together, we have stuff to talk about. Lots of stuff. Even if it’s just people-watching and cracking jokes. And this evening, like we always do, we spent the entire dinner talking, laughing, and cracking private jokes. You have to understand. We’ve been up each others asses since we were kids, ya know. (figuratively speaking…. for the most part)

But, in retrospect, I realized something. The only time the younger couple talked to each other was to pass off a kid, reach the diaper bag, maybe pick something off each others plate. That’s it. Now, I realize that having toddlers (they had 3) is stressful as fuck. Especially loading all 3 of them up and taking them out in public. But those kids were remarkably well behaved. Mom and Dad sat next to each other. Completely silent. Eating their dinner.

Maybe they’re going through a rough patch?

Maybe they both had a stressful day and just wanted to eat?

Maybe Sarge and I just talk too fucking much and are painfully immature and obnoxious?

Maybe I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have toddlers?

Of course, it’s easy for me to judge from where I stand now. I don’t have clingers anymore. Shitty diapers. Screaming. Bottles. Being absolutely saturated and underwater in an ocean that is a toddler.

But I do know that there is no way in hell Sarge and I could sit next to each other and NOT. SAY. ANYTHING.

Somebody’s gonna crack a sex joke. Somebody’s going to bring up some inconsequential tid bit of our day that is inevitably going to lead into an “OH. MY GAH! I have to tell you about ____!” type of conversation, which usually gets so involved that we don’t even hear or notice when the cook asks how we want our meat cooked. And if none of that happpens, somebody is going to pinch somebody. Just for the hell of it.

We can have entire conversations about how much laundry soap I should use and whether towels should be washed in cold or hot water. Sarge will even use sound effects. No lie.

He’ll mispronounce a word and we’ll proceed to talk about the definition, word forms, and latin roots for the next hour. Sarge will even use sound effects.

We could be in a completely sterile room with white padded walls and….. well…. we’d probably have sex first…. and then we’d talk about the chemical composition of said padding. Sarge will even use sound effects.

Now, of course, all of this goes against everything I’ve ever said about disliking idle chat….but that only counts for other people. Sarge doesn’t count.

So, back to my young couple at the table.

Without knowing shit about anything in regard to their circumstance, I find it sad. Sad that they can make these babies, raise these babies, sit at a table and eat dinner, and have absolutely nothing to talk about. Not even any sound effects.

So what gives all you married peeps? I know it’s quite common to hear people say that their spouse is their “best friend,” but really?

Are Sarge and I just those immature, obnoxious besties who giggle and text each other through the entire movie just for the hell of it? Hell, we have already dyed each others hair.

Are you a stuffed shirt when you’re hangin’ out with your ball and chain? Do you feel stifled? A sense of obligation to ask about their day?

Do you even hang out? Not like date night. But really, just hang out? Not like watching the same TV program in the same room. But really hangin’ out?

Oh, by the way. Sarge has informed me that today is the day Frodo and Sam encounter Shelob just outside Mount Doom. And then I informed him that Bilbo’s birthday is the same day as his mother’s birthday, and, of course, the same day as Frodo’s birthday. So far, no sound effects.