Monday, December 5, 2011

this one's for you, maybe you'll read my blog now...



My parents adore him. Even my sisters have started to warm up to him. All my friends love him. Everybody HE knows thinks he is a swell fella. Our daughter is a daddy's girl, so the love there is kind of implicit. I have been married to him for almost 13 years and most days I too am thankful to have him as my life-partner. But there are days, many days like today, where I just want to smother him with a pillow, mid-snore.


I didn't blur the picture, he had a drop of water trapped in the lens of the camera, the ding dong :)


Ours was a whirlwind romance. We got married literally 9 months from our first date (6 of which we were engaged and preparing the big wedding), after years of kissing the wrong frogs (me) and dating the most cold-hearted bitches (him, or so he claims...he tends to "fabricate" quite a bit, so I take every selective memory of his with a grain of salt, until PROVEN otherwise). For the last 12 years, he has been an awesome partner, the best dad (he did ALL the night feedings, no kidding), and an excellent travel partner, both on vacations and otherwise.

So why do I collect divorce-attorney business cards on the side (don't worry, I'm not gonna use them, just having them gives me the illusion of having options, OKAY?!), let me count the ways:


1. the matter of the travelling shoes
If he allocated a minute portion of the time and energy he spends in trying to find clever places to hide his shoes INSTEAD of just putting them in the closet where they belong, I wouldn't need to mention this at all. He does it on purpose of course, he has to! Otherwise it makes absolutely NO SENSE to move furniture JUST to hide his shoes. And if I suck at training one measly husband to do a simple thing like put his shoes away, I must inherently suck at all behavior modification and therefore am a disgrace to my profession. And my bosses are secretly laughing behind my back at my ineptitude. And my clients must be filing complaints about me with their insurance or with the licensing board. And my friends must be shaking their heads at my obtuseness. That's just wrong!

2. the matter of other things that never get put back
We have lived in the same house for over a decade now. We have had the same amount of rooms, closets and drawers for a good chunk of those years. Yes, he is so sweet as to do some of the shopping on his way home, but must he put everything he bought out on the kitchen counter where it would stay FOR MONTHS if I didn't put it away myself? I have tested this assertion... I am not kidding about the "months" part. The irony is that when we first cohabited, he warned me that he didn't want our kitchen to turn into his mom's (you cannot detect the color of her counter from all the tchotchkes that have accumulated on it throughout the years). He warned ME! Ah the cruel joke!!

3. the matter of "do it wrong and she won't ask your help again"
I used to think that he was just clumsy. He'd do something halfway, in the guise of not knowing how, and of course I would have to finish it. Whether it was folding laundry, swiffering the floors, vacuuming, putting out dishes for guests, making drinks, WHATEVER he didn't feel like doing. But I was wrong. He was not clumsy, he was JUST LAZY ALL ALONG! How do I know this? Because I once caught him advising my brother-in-law on his foolproof method of getting me off his back for good, knowing full well that I was OCD enough to want it done right. AAAAARGGGHHHH the nerve!

4. the matter of the glass being half-empty
Yes I have a lot of ideas, hobbies, interests, and I get really excited about them, like REALLY REALLY excited, consumed actually. But if I want to have my parade shat-upon, I do know where to go. Invariably his first tendency is for laziness or worse, paranoia. Granted he has saved me lots of grief by talking me out of trying dangerous and crazy stunts, but com'ON, some faith.. please? Shouldn't he support me EVEN when I'm making a mistake, ESPECIALLY when I'm making a mistake, whence I would need more of his support than not? Instead, he calls me his Forrest Gump (you know how Forrest would just one day decide to go running, does nothing but run for like three years, then one day abruptly stops, and then starts something else?). I do see the similarity in that I am a self-confessed serial-hobbyist. But that is not what comes to people's mind when you call someone a Forrest Gump, even as a term of endearment, RIGHT?! At any rate this Forrest Gump is into blogging these days, where is the damn support? One comment in 9 months does not a supporter make...

5. the matter of the impromptu gifts
Yes, he is very generous, and sweet, and thoughtful, and surprises me all the time with some gift or something completely off the wall but right on the mark! But I have yet to make him understand that on Xmas, my birthday, and mother's day, I want a damn gift, in a damn box, with a damn bow on top. I don't care what it is, I don't care how expensive it is, it could be a freaking cheesy mug and I would love it. But nooooo, he buys me a fancy coffee machine literally two weeks before my birthday, to come home empty handed the day of, all contrite and apologetic. 12 years of this and I'm at my wit's end. I leave hints, notes, cutout pictures, to no avail. I kid about it, I lie and say I'm used to it, that's just the way he is, but that's not true. Can't I have it both ways?

I get it: These are trivial things which mostly put him in a better light than me. But I want my rant and I'm sticking to it, even if I come off as the ungrateful bitch that I probably am. And maybe if he knows he's the topic of my post, he may actually (FINALLY) read one!


Tell me: Am I alone in this? How does your spouse drive you nuts?




6 Comments:

At 12/5/11, 11:08 AM , Blogger Gristle McThornbody said...

OMG!!! Another serial hobbyist (aka "quitter" in my mother's terms when I was growing up). I call it inquisitive and wanting to try lots of new things, and I'm just fine with walking away from it when it's no longer fun or I find out I really don't enjoy it, thank you. I'd rather try 200 things and quit them all than sit like a bump on a log for fear that I might not stick with something until the day I die once I start it.

Literally, we could be married to the same guy, right down to the doing things half-assedly (you say half-way, I say half-assed, potato, potahto) in order to escape further involvement. And early in our marriage he had the audacity of hope to tell me that I was just so much better at certain things than he was. Now, you know me somewhat from my blog. Do I sound like the kind of fawning airhead who would fall for a line? Do I? Huh? DO I?!?

Have you ever tried to work with Mr. Filelalaine, even on a domestic project? Mr. B and I are both alpha dogs and neither of us is ever wrong. Such fun we have! But, we've made it 38 years, so we're doing something right.

 
At 12/5/11, 11:17 AM , Anonymous the person of the moment said...

Thank you honey, that's really lovely. I have enjoyed mostly reading the last three lines.
signed.... the person in the picture.

 
At 12/5/11, 11:18 AM , Blogger Unknown said...

Jeri, THANK YOU FOR THAT!!!Agree, concur, and resemble that remark! When I feel that I've got whatever I needed to get outta the hobby, there are gazillion other things that I want to try, so I move on. He doesn't get it because except for the minutiae of WWII trivia, he is NOT interested in trying anything. And THAT I find oh so wrong.

"Mr F." and I actually do work together on one business and he does the same thing Mr B. does: "you are so organized baby, here, take my shit and do that too". I don't buy it of course, because I wasn't born yesterday no sirry-bob, but I do it because I'd rather do it myself than have him mess it up. And he takes ample advantage of that, that's for sure!

 
At 12/5/11, 11:55 AM , Blogger Unknown said...

To the person of the moment: Xmas is 19 days away, I'm just sayin'! :)

 
At 12/5/11, 8:39 PM , Anonymous Megan said...

Men!

Mine constantly asks WHAT'S WRONG??? in a panicked tone for the most minor things.

My phone jingles with a text? WHAT'S WRONG???
I pick up a piece of garbage he's left on the counter? (This is at least a daily occurrence.) WHAT'S WRONG???
I turn off the TV because nobody appears to be watching it? WHAT'S WRONG???

AAAAAAHHHHHHH...

And of course, if something WAS wrong, he'd never notice.

 
At 12/5/11, 8:55 PM , Blogger Unknown said...

LOL I feel your pain. Mine says "It's up to you" automatically to anything I ask:
Should we eat? -- It's up to you!
What time do we have to leave? -- It's up to you!
Shall I get this for you mom? -- It's up to you!
Are you hungry? -- It's up to you!!!
And of course, as soon as I decide, since it's obviously up to me, he objects... OF COURSE!

 

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