Who Makes Your Decisions?

In my family, I am the decision-maker. I have the loudest voice and strongest opinion; therefore, my family has no need to ask anyone else for a decision. I decide Italian or Mexican, theater or rental, two cars or suburban.


In my dorm-room, I am the decision-maker. I have been at the school the longest and am in my last semester of school; therefore, I do what I want. Sounds obnoxious, huh? Well, my roommates are some of the most passive people I know, so they never really fight. Erin is my sister, so she already know me. Autumn has been my roommate for 2 years and understands my stubborn ways; when I'm too ridiculous, she puts me in line. Jessica and Okeivia got stuck with Erin, Anon, and I, but I think they enjoy our random outbursts of insanity...or at least, I hope they do. ;)


In my relationship, I am not the decision-maker; but don't tell Aaron because I'm pretty sure I've fooled him into thinking that I've fooled myself into thinking that I have it under control. Did you follow that? Me neither. Anyway, he makes the decisions until we'll on the other side of Dean, and he asks, "Where do you wanna go?" Then the door of my mind busts wide open, and I have to decide for the both of us about where we should eat. Here is the monologue that happens in my head:
I don't like Cracker Barrel, but he does, so we should go there.
But does he want a fast-food-feel instead of a full sit-down? We could go to Fuzzy's.
But it's not Tuesday, so we wouldn't get the cheap tacos, and he just made a budget, so we shouldn't spend too much money.
By that time, we've crossed the bridge, so he nudges me with his elbow and asks again, "Huh? Where do you wanna eat?"
I look up at him to stall time as my monologue continues:
We agree that Applebee's isn't as good as Chili's, but I have Chili's in Wax.
Parkway has good burgers, but there's not a good game on, and I'd rather watch a game if we go there.
We ate at Cheddar's last week, but again, it's a little expensive.
McAlister's isn't as expensive; I could get a water and drink his sweet tea--which he hates.
He looks down at me and raises his eyebrows. "Huh?" he asks.
The pressure's on, so I say, "Uhhhhmmmmm," as I continue my monologue:
I hate B-Dubs and won't go there.
I wish we had a Carino's because I love that place.
"I don't care," I finally say, exhaling all the air I've held in my lungs.
He rolls his eyes toward me because he knows about the monologue that has gone on in my head. "You don't care?" he asks.
I shrug my shoulders. "Gimme some options."


That is literally our conversation every time we go to Wichita.


I looooove making decisions when Aaron's not involved. When he's involved, I want him to make all of the decisions; I want him to take care of me. Is that lame? Yah, probably. But I like to be taken care of, especially by the boy who likes to take care of me.
I just giggled to myself. It's okay if you rolled your eyes.