The other night I was sitting on my end of the comfy couch trying to have a frank discussion with my husband about his mother effing snoring.
Incidentally, don't you think "frank" is a funny word to use in a sentence like that? I do. That's why I used it.
So anyway the conversation went something like this:
Me: "We're about to have a frank discussion about the mother fucking snoring situation."
Him, distractedly and not the least bit scared: "Can we do it after Alaskan Frontier?"
Me: "NO! It's getting close to the time when we go up to bed and every single night you've been snoring in my face!"
Him, turning towards me: "You're really eating that cheese aggressively."
Me: "Well! Aren't you sick of me stabbing your calf with my dagger-like sharp toenail? Getting poked in the eyeball? A knee in the back? A miscellaneous hair pull?"
Him: "Is that why I have so many unexplained bruises on the back of my leg? I was wondering about that."
Me: "I'd like to think I've been very kind about your illness so far, but its literally been since THANKSGIVING! It's time to take your balls off the mantle and stop milking this ::air quote:: "asthma" condition you are plagued with, ALEX. Some people need to sleep."
Him: "You called me Alex. I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest you are a little angry."
Me: "You knew that was one of my top five deal breakers when we got married!"
Him, calmly, as usual: "But I cant help it. It's out of my control."
Me: "Just because you have ::air quotes again:: "shitty lungs" doesn't mean I should suffer every night for all of the god damn live long day!"
Him: Silently glancing between me and Alaskan Frontier. Clearly not taking me seriously.
Me: "Well I'm asking the painter to paint your brand new bedroom a more masculine color."
Him: "That's not very nice. It's kind of chilly in there with nobody to snuggle."
Me: "Well, pull your shit together ALEX, or you're OUT."
Him, turning back towards Alaskan Frontier: "Hey do you want a devil dog?"
Me: "Does a bear poop?"
Him, getting up: "You know it."
And then we ate a Devil Dog and went to bed. And he snored in my face til 3:00 am.
At the risk of pissing off my sister Jen, who does not believe in recycling, I'm reposting from this same day last year, Feb 8. Which incidentally is my niece Jillian's 10th birthday. Woohoo Jilli! I have to do the old repost thing because I have a lot of running around to do today and I probably won't get a chance to write a coherent and or mildly amusing post. So if you were a reader last year, go ahead and skip. If not, feel free to read on.
You know, after I posted yesterday, it occurred to me that all of you three people that read my blog might think that I am a big fat mean wife. Except emptynester, totally gets me.
Anyway, you might think I am mean because I said that I left Alex at the party we were at and made him wog behind me in the car for a little while.
Well, I suppose I should clarify. Because number one it was only about a block and B, because this is what we do.
See, I am ready to go when I am ready to go. And I am also ready to go when Alex is ready to go. When Alex is ready, he'll say something like, "OK, let's get out of here." So I will go get my coat on, say my goodbyes, and if the kids are with us, I will round them up.
Then comes the part where we wait at the door for Alex to wrap it up. And we wait.
And then we wait some more.
So then I usually threaten and say cheerfully, "OK Hon, I'm heading out to the car now!" And then he keeps talking and standing. And talking.
So then I threaten cheerfully, "If you don't make it out there by the time I buckle everyone in, you can just jog home!"
And then I go out to the car and buckle the kids in and beep once or twice for good measure. Then I'll s l o w l y start to back out of the driveway. I mean, I think that I am very very calm, cool and collected about his difficulties in leaving any place that we go. I give a lot of fair warnings. And mostly, since I am so used to his annoying behavior, I am pretty cheerful about it. So usually when I am about halfway down the driveway, he comes running out the door and down the steps and tries to catch up to me. And sometimes if he catches up, I pretend I don't see him and keep going, just for the fun of it.
And sometimes the kids will hang out the window and cheer him on.
So really, I don't think I have ever gotten so far as to actually fully leave him somewhere.
So I am not really that mean. Right?
