Ooh, I have an actual story! (I may have posted this elsewhere sometime or another.)
One summer (I think I was visiting for the weekend) we decided to have dinner on the deck. So we all helped set the table and cook; however, some of the silverware must have gotten left inside. We're all sitting down to eat and Mom looks down at her setting and says in the most forlorn voice, "I don't have a fork."
I smiled and said, "Your legs aren't broken, you can go in the house and get one." (My tone made it clear I was both teasing and calling her on her PA-ness.) Then as the rest of the family was cracking up, I said with another smile, "All you had to do was ask and I would have gotten you a fork!"
I like this. My family acts so quiet and forlorn and victimized. They feel like "true love" means you guess what people want and give it to them. (Any guess why they have crash and burn marriages?)
Argh, snowflake. I had a roommate in college that thought of "true love" that way. On Friday night, she was always holed up in our room "sad-sacking out" on her bed, in her sweats and a blanket, watching Sleepless in Seattle and crying because her long-distance (still in high school) boyfriend had upset her somehow. He went out with his friends. Didn't he know that she was here at college, alone, staying home to make sure that she wasn't out meeting other boys. How dare he go out and have fun when she was so miserable! Why couldn't he protect her feelings like she protected his?
When I asked why she hadn't told him she felt this way, she said a good boyfriend should just KNOW. I asked if she would feel better if she went to a party with me and meeting a few new people. She sniffed that she couldn't just go out and party
* with strangers like some
people. She cared about her relationship
(*Please note that I also had a long-distance boyfriend at another college. We both went out with our friends regularly and trusted each other to have a good time without being unfaithful. Roommate's emphasis seemed to imply that I was heading out to the local burlesque club for a bout of jello wrestling. ETA: I am now married to that boyfriend,)
Roommate and I did not share a room the next semester. I'd hoped that things might calm down after her boyfriend joined her at our college campus. But through mutual friends, I heard that the Sleepless in Seattle jags were more frequent because the boyfriend couldn't guess what she wanted. He would want to play video games with friends. She would say that was fine and then retreat into her movie and jammies. If he didn't realize she was upset, she would call him crying, fussing at him for not realizing it. Eventually, his friends convinced him to break up with her.
At the time, I didn't recognize it as passive aggressive. I just thought she was a pain in my butt who kept eating my Pop Tarts.