Meet the Bickersons.

Everyone knows the Bickersons. They might be your best friends, John and Joan, your next door neighbors, Phil and Shari, or your in-laws, Pete and Mary. The Bickersons do what they do best. They bicker with each other — anywhere and everywhere, in person, on the phone, in front of other people, and even while in bed. I find that the Bickersons don’t usually argue, or yell — or do anything physically abusive. They just bicker.

Not all Bickersons are alike. The Bickersons I know and love happen to be quite entertaining and generous to a fault — but they do bicker. Mostly it’s pretty mild, but there are times when their bickering can be uncomfortable to be around — especially if the heat’s turned up a notch (and I do mean literally). If their bickering carries on longer than usual, someone invariably steps up, makes a joke, and everyone laughs. If you don't take the time to get to know my Bickersons, you may assume that they're headed for divorce court. Given their behavior, this would be a logical assumption, but this formula is flawed. It requires judging by appearances only — looking and not seeing, and definitely hearing but not listening.

With my Bickersons, what you see is what you get. There are no hidden agendas, no dressing up appearances for appearance sake. Once their door closes to outsiders, they still bicker — but I don’t worry about what else is going on behind that closed door. In between their bickering (and most likely during) they love each other — anywhere and everywhere, in person, on the phone and in front of other people. Yes, they’re as passionate about their love for each other as they are about their bickering. When (not if) someone asks how I can stand to be around their bickering, I smile and say that I prefer the bickering to another less attractive alternative. You see, I truly believe my Bickersons are happy, content and very much in love with each other...regardless of their bickering. I've known other couples who seemed to be happy and very much in love...on the surface. They never argued or disagreed in public. They always smiled, constantly petted each other and held hands. They never bickered. Then poof! One or the other moved out, or one evening the police came to investigate a “domestic” disturbance. The house was put up for sale and all their dirty laundry, that had been so carefully hidden from view, was very much on display. She hated him and he hated her. Their facade had been in place for years until it finally cracked under the pressure of false pretense and gave way. No thanks. I prefer to skip “showy” performances and favor “what you see...” friendships. They last longer as they're built with sturdier, genuine material. Besides, I don’t really notice my Bickerson’s bickering anymore. It’s there, somewhere in the background, but it rarely hits my radar. I'm not promoting this type of communication as healthy, or appropriate, for everyone. I'm just explaining how my Bickersons communicate. Of course, there are limits to the amount of bickering outsiders can tolerate.

Recently, my husband and I (and three other couples) went on a trip with the Bickersons. It was their anniversary weekend. For some reason they bickered more than usual. Perhaps the name of the street, where we rented the condos, had something to do with it — Wisteria Drive. At one point, I was annoyed with their constant bickering. I started calling them the “Bickersons Plus.” Someone else coined them “The Bickersons II,” as in the sequel from the day before. Our usual attempts at levity didn’t work this time. They continued to bicker and bicker...and then bicker some more. Given that it was approaching triple digit temperatures outside, and that the air conditioning wasn’t working inside, it was getting uncomfortably hot. It was apparent that we all needed to cool off and the Bickersons needed to cool it. After one particularly nasty bit of bickering, I started singing the “Happy Anniversary” song. Everyone, including the Bickersons, joined in. It worked. For that evening, and into the next day, we sang another verse whenever the Bickersons began to bicker. After each impromptu chorus we would all laugh. It was a not-so-subtle and off-key reminder of why we were all together — and it brought the temperature down several degrees. Eventually the bickering Bickersons stopped their bickering long enough to celebrate their milestone anniversary. As we finally headed for home on the Sunday, I waved a final goodbye to the Bickersons as we stopped to get gas and they continued down the freeway. Their dog was wagging her tail happily in the back seat, with Mom and Dad in front...bickering about the setting on the air conditioning.

I worried about the Bickersons on the entire drive home. I wondered if their weekend bickering was abnormal, even for them. I fretted that they weren’t as happy as I had thought them to be. I worried that perhaps their relationship was in trouble. Finally, my husband and I arrived home. I walked into our house and turned on my computer for the first time in three days. Within seconds, I came across a story from a friend. She wrote about her youth, which she spent in a perfectly kept house, with a perfectly manicured yard, with two perfectly polished cars — one in the driveway and one in the garage. Sounds ideal, doesn’t it? From the outside looking in, everything certainly appeared to be perfect. Unfortunately, this was not the case. It seems that the perfect house, yard and cars were all decoys — a successful camouflage campaign. They were props for appearance sake only — and they masked the true spirit of that home and the unhappy childhood that played out from within for my friend. The irony did not escape me. While this friend’s childhood was far from perfect, the timing of her story, appearing as it did on my monitor, was eerily perfect. After I left her a message, I found myself thinking about my bickering anniversary couple. Then I went back and read my friend’s heart-wrenching story again. It seems that this friend’s account of her unhappy youth provided the much-needed yin to my weekend yang.

I called the Bickersons later that night. I said that I was just checking in to make sure they arrived home safely. In reality, I guess I wanted to know how things were going behind their closed door. No worries. The Bickersons were laughing and very relaxed. They were getting ready to climb into the tub — together. As I hung up the phone I could hear them bickering about the temperature of the water. Everything was back to normal. Real normal, not faux “perfect” normal.

I went to bed that evening content in my knowledge that the 25-year old Bickerson love affair that I know is alive and well. I guess it was prickly heat that got to me — and to them. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought about their anniversary again...and the prickly heat. As I connected the dots, my last thought was “lethal Hallmark Holiday, complete with high expectations, forced romanticism and triple digit temperatures.” I slept well that night. I heard the Bickersons fell asleep in the tub.

Sure, I joke and exaggerate some to make my point about the Bickersons, but sometimes I wonder if it’s the bickering that keeps their passion alive. Perhaps if we all let off a little steam now and then, and didn’t worry so much about appearances, we could get rid of that big pot sitting prominently on our stove. You know — the pot that’s always threatening to boil over and scald our relationships. Burns are painful and leave nasty scars. Plus, they take a long time to heal. Think about it. For the Bickersons, the only hot water threatening to overflow is in their tub — when they’re in it together.

I leave you with one final thought. Appearances can easily deceive. If you judge a book by its cover, you may miss a good read; but you can always read that book later. Friends are another matter. If you judge the health of a couple's relationship by their bickering you may miss out on a lot of fun with some bickering but great and genuinely happy friends. On the other hand, you can put blinders on and spend your time with some fake, non-bickering, for “show only” friends. It’s a personal preference. For me, I’ll keep it real. No blinders, but I have thought about investing in some ear plugs.

Bickersons... Meet the Bickersons,

They're a happy bickering family.

From the town of BickersVille,

They're a page right out of history.

Someday, maybe she will win the fight,

And that bickering man will stay out for the night.

When you're with the Bickersons,

have a yabba dabba doo time,

a dabba doo time,

we'll have a gay old bickering time.

Dedicated to WB...thank you for sharing your story. I heard you and am listening. Also, to the Bickersons — here’s to 25 more bickering years together. Next time let’s celebrate in Alaska, where it’s cooler and we won’t be subjected to such unbearable “prick-ly” heat.

© 2006 Teresa G. Franta