There are certain themes in every marriage. For one couple it might be deceit and betrayal (I’m so optimistic); for another, steamy sex and excessive personal lubricant (see, that’s better).
For me and Charles, it’s passive aggressiveness and ulterior-motive-disguised-as-altruism (on his part; on mine it’s undying devotion and servitude).
Do you want proof? Because I have it. Documented right here on this very blog (if you could see me and my blog right now, we’re cozied up on the chair and I’m petting it, nice kitty).
Exhibit 1: The nicest nerve
The very day I healed from a pinched nerve, Charles trumped me with a kidney stone that laid him up on the couch for three days.
Ruling: This guy is so passive aggressive his body is in cahoots with his brain!
Exhibit 2: The other woman was a bonbon
Charles brought home a glitter covered bonbon (which I later learned was the brainchild of a stripper-hah!) in the guise of a present, when in actuality the bonbon was proof that he had not spent the night with his head between Misty’s frosted jugs.
Ruling: You can look a gift bonbon in the mouth.
Tonight’s exhibit brilliantly illustrate both themes. It's so tidy, in fact, that it illustrates a freakish cross pollination of themes.
You see, I nicely asked Charles to shorten his encampment stay. I was so very tired from tending to Junior’s gooey eye, projectile puke, and fever. I needed help. I needed my man to gallop on back to me. Which he did. But when Charles finally arrived home tonight he fell into the foyer, woad (um, Celtic war paint) covering his wan, pale face and told me he was…useless.
And so, I present:
Exhibit 1: Charles’ kidney stone, part deux
Right now, he’s lying on the couch doubled over in pain. I had envisioned his homecoming a little differently. Like, backrubs for me. Dinner for me. Instead I brought him soup and even went back into the kitchen for crackers! (I didn’t crumple them up—I’m not that nice.)
Ruling: This guy is so passive aggressive his body is in cahoots with his brain! He wants to rest and recover from his trip, not tend to a sick child and tired wife.
Ruling: You can look a gift homecoming in the mouth. He didn’t come home early just to help me out; he came home to the creature comforts of his house, to modern medicine, to painkillers.
If you’re booing at me, know this: I’m not heartless. I’ve heard kidney stone pain is akin to labor (oops, I just fell out of my chair laughing). Ehem, where was I? Ah yes, my poor husband needs TL right now, not BL (Blog Lambasting) but I can’t help but find this all very, very amusing.
His organs keeps trumping me. They’re sneaky little shits.
Sigh. Speaking of organs, my brain is starting to shut down due to lack of sleep.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
How to tell your third kid from your first
Note the appropriate response here is: "When did THAT happen?" because let's be honest, life is moving so fast, there's ...
-
I'm so tired. But I'm also very happy. Happy you can’t see my backyard, that is. It’s an embarrassment. Chuck and I have neglected i...
-
I’d like to switch gears and talk about a serious matter—a matter called “What happens when you and your partner switch roles so completely ...
-
I want to thank everyone who left me a comment on my flea post. I seriously expected comments like “You’re disgusting!” or “I’m never coming...
5 comments:
Sick hubbies are no fun. Worse than kids IMHO. Hang in there!
I didn't know anyone else had one of those husbands. (My husband is now eighty, and we've been married almost forty years.)
He had a critical breathing episode four years ago, when I wasn't exactly sick; I was in the month between chemotherapy and radiation therapy. He was in the hospital for over a month, and I drove out to see him and check on him nearly every day.
When it almost happened again, we noticed the symptoms and drove him to the hospital ourselves. Again, I wasn't sick. I was merely scheduled for cataract surgery. I had to wait for someone to drive me to the hospital because I had sold my car when I couldn't see.
May your husband pass that stone -- and I say that with all the venom I can.
Please give him a break. Now you don't mention him bringing home any flowers for you, but instead he greeted you with an ailing organ. Well ... let me ask you.
What's better than having roses on your piano? How about "tulips" on his organ?
hahahahahahaha
I crack me up!
Now that's practically wisdom!
You are a riot!
You're right! You should cut out his kidneys with a spoon and show them who's boss! Just kidding, of course. I still feel bad for the guy, my hubby had some bad stones and he was pretty miserable. Definitely not the 24 hours of miserable that I endured, but I don't want to downplay his pain.
Post a Comment