WARNING: a little Husband bashing here. I suppose I need to preface it by saying I love him, I can’t imagine my life without him, he is my everything. He’s wicked smart and funny and weird and whacky and I love him. BUT by 8am this morning, after I’d already spent two hours doing things he could have done yesterday when I was at work, he was not my favorite person. I mean, I’d filled TWO Target bags with dog poop picked up from just the front yard. And this was after cleaning the kitchen, washing yesterday’s dishes, emptying the dishwasher, washing AND drying the towels, feeding and watering the dogs and taking one garbage and two recycle bins up the hill to the curb. whinebitchmoan... Last week, at a party, someone was telling Husband how talented he was. “You can play the guitar and the piano and the tambourine, is there anything you can’t play?” And I, plastic wine cup waving in my hand for dramatic effect, I pursed my lips and loudly said, “I know what he can’t play, the dishwasher.” BOOM!!! He’s irritating and picky and life with him involves driving around looking for “Husband approved” parking spots and eating before going to parties or having him turn into a hangry rat on the way home. It’s making excuses about his weird OCD habits and listening to him blather on about microphones and speakers and cars and the stupid little details that I could care less about. And yet he says things, funny rude things that will have me in stiches. I mean, I am constantly getting one upped by his snark. The other day when I was nagging him and something vital that I can’t remember, he turned to his friend and said, “I’m sorry, ej’s on a 15mile nag-a-thon.” And when I told him it was a good thing he was funny, he said, “If I weren’t funny, I’d just be good looking.” And then, the other day he said this to the dogs, “You’re like a needy girlfriend. One who is so cute when you first meet but says “I love you” too quickly and then follows you around and annoys you and you can’t get rid of her.” Though he might nag me about what I put in my face and challenge my thought pattern constantly and really irritate the freckles off my face, he’ll do something so sweet like send me this text on his way home. This morning, despite my full on ratty behavior toward him via text, I found a bag of chips and a package of Oreos on the counter. He loves me. Dork.
A bag of chips followed by a cookie or two for breakfast really does wonders for the grumbling “Husband is an ass” conversation I was having while picking up pounds of dog poop at 7am. I guess I’ll keep him.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
Categories
All
|