It may seem like I’m stuck on stupid, but I’m not.
I blog to get it out of my system and some may prefer the silly, zany, humor blogging, or the “ photo essay sweetiegirlz”, but I have to admit, I have no one to talk to right now.
So if you’re marriage is heavenly, and you’re not a soap opera fan, then just skip this blog.
The beat of the “argument” goes on into the evening.
Something about me asking him to pick up something for dinner, since I have been cooking all week.
He cooked over the weekend, but I cooked for the week. Chili, Tuna casserole, beef and mashed potatoes, a chuck roast….
The asking produces a scolding from him. He’s not rich…. we have bills…. it’s not payday till tommorrow…blah blah blah….
I don’t provoke. I hide.
This is different from the guy asking the girl:
”Awww what’s the matter??” and she answers: “nothing” I don’t play that game. In fact, there’s nothing sillier than that game.
If something bothers me that much, I just
disapear for about 2 or 3 hours. Check the closet, the garage.
I’m around…. just not for him.
I lock myself in my our bedroom and pout. (it’s just easier than kicking him)
He bangs on the door, wanting to get in and get his wallet and keys.
Our ongoing bone of contention: finances.
Part of our problem: We are soooooo the opposite of each other it is scary.
One thing about Doug he’s a born pessimist. He never takes things as they roll.
If all the world were sunflowers and daisies, he’d say, “yeah but what about all that fertilizer? Life stinks!”
He sits carefully on the edge of the bed and I roll over with the pillow on my face.
*go away, make him go away*
I think he’s gonna say something caring and sweet, but he says:
Anyway, what do you DO around here all day!
*What the…..????*
He: I mean nothing is done.
*really? I pick up your dirty underwear every morning*
He: You need to get a job so you can pay for things that YOU want.
*okay Dick Tracy, I can’t MAKE someone hire me!*
He: All you do is sleep!
*Guilty as charged. But I also landscape, mow the lawn, fold the laundry and cook all week. Pick up and drop off the kids at school, run errands, and clean the kitchen, and bathrooms. Organize, walk the doggie, and oh yeah,….. I blog. A lot.*
She leaves the room, goes into Big “A’s” room and locks the door. Hey at least I’m non confrontational.
He comes home with Popeyes Fried chicken.
Just to get back at him, she doesn’t eat it until he falls alsleep, around 10:30 at night.
ding ding ding! Round 2 over!
Things cool people say.....