Oh, I lovey the lists. They almost write themselves. Then I can return uninterrupted to my regular full time goal of letting my brain atrophy so my face looks thinner.
My dear husband is a patient man. You've heard me say this before. Today, I'll compile the proof. Then you'll see that he's a supernatural being who should not be forced to abide my inferior company.
This list represents a fraction of what he's compelled to put up with:
o Crumbs in his bed.
Ric complains about TWO things in the WHOLE WORLD. Everything else he's okay with. One of those two things is crumbs in his bed. So, what does his horrible wife do? She eats in the bed and lets the kids eat in the bed while he's at work, slaving away to finance our very survival.
o Various things in the house pee on his stuff.
Imagine you come home from basketball (the ONE time during the week that you do anything for yourself) and find your wife and toddler asleep on your bed. Upon lifting your toddler to move him to his own bed, you find he's peed all over your side of the bed.
You go to a nearby laundry basket to get a clean sheet and find that the cat has (AGAIN!) peed on the clean laundry.
If this happened to you, you would move away and burn down the house on your way out the door. If it happens to Ric, he sighs and says, "Honey, is there something I can do to help keep the laundry and bed from getting peed on?"
o He does not have clean laundry when he needs it.
It's a reasonable thing to expect to have some clean clothes to wear to your job when you are the ONLY person out of SEVEN people in your house who has a job AND the money you make from that job is used by ALL SEVEN of the other people to support their utter laziness. You should not have to say THREE days in a ROW, "Honey, did we do any wash yesterday? Are there any socks clean?" No, you should not have to say that.
o Most days he has nothing to eat for lunch.
In a constant fit of ineptitude, I frequently forget to make arrangements for Ric to have any food to take for lunch. I forget to make extra dinner to tuck away for him. I forget to buy sandwich items at the store. I forget to tell him that he can spend some money if he needs to in order to get something to eat. Because Ric NEVER complains, I also forget to check with him and see if he figured out anything to have for lunch most days. And, often, he'll skip lunch so that he does not accidentally interfere with the budget. Compile this with the next proof of patience.....
o Most days he has to wait a long, long, long time for dinner.
At least a few times a week I stall about dinner. Around 9:30, Ric will gently say, "Sweety, did you have any plans for dinner?" Remember now, this is my dear husband who has also not made a PEEP of complaint about not having any lunch (also my fault). At this point I say something paltry and insufficient like, "Oh, sorry honey, what if we all have peanut butter and banana sandwiches? Does that sound good?"
My dear, dear husband will ALWAYS reply, "Yes, that sounds wonderful, actually. Would you like me to make you one, too?"
By now you're convinced that my husband is not human and is actually some Saint/Angel hybrid. You'd be right.
You're also convinced that not only do I not deserve THIS husband, I probably do not deserve any husband and should live in a cave far away from the other, more deserving humans. Also correct.
But, I'll let you in on the bestest, most miraculous thing about being married to Ric. HE thinks that HE'S the one getting the sweet deal here. There's something about his combination of Patience and Perfection that makes him believe that I'M being good to HIM and that HE'S lucky to have me.
This form of hysterical delusion totally works for me.
HA! S'ily silly girl. Every entry on this list only proves what kind of a sweet deal I really do have.
ReplyDeleteo Dinner: Some of my friends do the majority of the cooking in their household. Many of them help or even have cooking assignments like handling Sat. morning breakfast or Sunday dinner. Few of my friends have the same great deal that I do, where ALL of the cooking is handled by their wife, and NONE NONE NONE of them have a wife who cooks as well and with as much variety as my wife.
o Lunch: Shall I complain that my wife didn't bring lunch to me and place it in my mouth and massage my esophagus until I swallow as well? Are my arms broken that I can't make my own PBJ in the morning for lunch? I think not. This is not such a thing. Most people will read this and thing to themselves, "of COURSE she doesn't need to make lunch for him. Let him eat cake!" and they'd be right.
o Laundry: I have no assignments with laundry. My dear wife has not even complained when I promised to take over the laundry and then failed miserably to produce anything close to the amount of attention required to actually perform this task. In fact, I have no assignments at home at all. My dear, lovely wife frequently responds to my queries into what I can do thusly, "No, darling. You sit and enjoy this delicious meal I've created for you, and then play pool or watch TV and relax while I clean up." She has a lot of respect for bread-winning. I get WAY more credit than I should for just going to work.
o Pee: With having no chores at home I really don't feel like helping out a few times to clean up wet sheets or shampoo cat puke out of the carpet at midnight:30 in the morning is asking too much. My dear wife handles ALL the other housework, and schools my children and manages condos and HOAs and, and, and...
o Crumbs: Ok, yeah, I'm pretty patient with the crumbs.
I am not deluded. I see the world. I read the writing on the wall. I know the score. I know what side of the bed my bread is buttered on. I will not complain or do anything to jostle the balance of this deal and alert my wife to the amazing deal I am getting. If she wants to delude herself into thinking she's getting the good deal, well then, who am I to clue her in.
Don't you spoil my good either!
:) !!!
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