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Archive for the 'Marriage' Category

Jun 15 2008

My Husband, the Cheapskate

Just usHubby is complaining that he’s hungry. Our fridge is bare as we desperately need to make a trip to the grocery store. Since there is nothing to cook in the house besides Ramen noodles, hubby says “if we have to” then we’ll eat out. I suggest we eat at the local pub, Connolly’s. He suggests Taco Bell. I suggest Chinese food. He suggests getting some cold cuts at the deli.

This goes on for hours. At one point I become frustrated and lock myself up in the bedroom with my lap top. Hubby doesn’t notice as he clacks away on his keyboard in response to comments on the car forums.

Our roommate comes home. “Gosh, I’m starved. You guys wanna get something to eat? Let go to Connolly’s.”

I snort. “Can’t. Hubby refuses to get anything that costs more than $3.00”

“Hey!” Roommate shouts towards the computer room. “You wanna go to Connolly’s?”

I could practically hear the scowl on his face as he said a firm “No.”

Roommate pauses. “What if I pay for Ang?”

Hubby emerges; it’s nice to see him without the computer chair attached to his bottom. “Sure.” He’s all smiles now.

When we eloped 5 years ago, you were perfection. You put your dishes in the sink. You folded your laundry. If I was sick, you’d make me chicken soup. Now it’s hard enough to get your attention just to remind you to buy some Airborne.

You constantly drive me crazy. You spend 50 percent of your time at work, the rest is spent on the computer or working on your car. Your clothes are strewn all around the house. You drink all the milk in less than 12 hours. There are tires and car rims taking up my entire living room!

To make matters worse, the cats love you more. They run to you when you come home, even if I’m feeding them treats. You never feed them, brush them or buy them toys, but they always purr when you’re around. Damn you.

During the years, I’ve looked at you and wondered “Why the hell am I still with this person?” It’s guaranteed that we’ll fight at least 3 times a day: once in the morning as you wake me up to ask if your socks are brown or black, once at dinner time when we need to agree on what to eat, and once at bedtime when you refuse to get of the computer. Why would someone willingly put themselves through that nonsense day in and day out? It took me 5 years, but after what happened the other day, I now know the answer.

I had been arguing with you all day, you seemed unable to do any good. Instead of cleaning the cat’s litter, you spent 3 hours washing the car (3 hours?!)  The lunch we were supposed to have together instead turned into a cold slice of pizza for me while you drove to Auto Zone. You ignored your mother’s constant phone calls, so much to the point that even I thought you should return her call. When I suggested as much, you snapped at me that I sounded just like her.

We finally got into the car to rush to the bank. During that drive, the only sound was your favorite techno CD where every track sounds exactly the same. I was so annoyed with you that I didn’t even complain that you were playing it yet again. You scowled at the road ahead of you.

At the highway exit, we passed a car flashing hazards in the middle lane. “Should I go back and see if they need help?” you asked. Of course, I told you.

I sat in the car while watching you talk to the driver. You motioned down the road, where we both knew there was a gas station. I expected you to come back to the car (as the bank was about to close and I knew you were worried about a check bouncing), but you didn’t. Instead you smiled at me, waved, rolled up your sleeves, and began to push the car down the road. That smile did me in. Plus, you looked kind of sexy pushing the car and being all manly.

When you came back, I told you that now the bank had been closed for 15 minutes. You shrugged and asked me what I wanted to eat. I suggested Connolly’s. You took me to the Olive Garden. I couldn’t even remember why I had been angry at you before. I told you so and you smiled again. Bastard.

Happy Anniversary, Babe*

*originally written on February 25, 2008







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Jun 08 2008

He Should Have Ducked

(The following is a testimony in case my husband decides to press charges.)  

“Fuck!!” I screamed as I stubbed my toe on a car rim. I had just walked into the house and once again was injured while trying to avoid tripping over one of the many tires in the living room. My poor toes and shins had been black and blue for weeks and today was the last straw. I had no idea why my house had turned into the Subaru spare parts store, but I wasn’t standing for it anymore. I hobbled into the computer room where the hubby was clacking away at his keyboard like always.   

“What the hell? When are you getting rid of the shit that’s all over our living room?” I demanded.  

He kept typing away, unconcerned. “Don’t worry; I’m taking care of it.”   “When?”  

“Soon. Don’t worry.”  

“Are you kidding me? That’s exactly what you said last week, and the week before, and the week before that! No, you need to get rid of everything right now. I’m tired of always bumping and tripping into shit.”  

He glanced over to where I was standing with my arms crossed. “Is that the problem? Just move some things around if they’re in your way.”  

 “Fine, should I start with these expensive and heavy rims? Oh don’t help me, I’ll just drag them across the floor…I hope nothing gets scratched up.” I started to walk into the living room.  

Hubby leaped from his computer chair. “Oh come on, don’t do that!”  

I smirked. “You said I could just move everything, so that’s what I’m doing.”  

As he started to stack sets of tires on top of each other, I focused my attention on the tools scattered everywhere.   

“And why do you have all this crap out?”  

“It makes it easier to find?” he unwisely joked.   

I picked up a tool. “Really? You can’t spend the extra minute looking for this y-file in your tool box?”  

“Um, actually no.”  

“No? No you can’t?”  

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just, that’s not a y-file. It’s called a rat tail file.” He looked smug. I hate how he manages to always be such a know-it-all.  

“Okay then,” I said putting down the whatever file. I picked up a hammer. “Now don’t tell me this is called Mjolnir.” Ha, I could be a know-it-all too!  

“Seriously, do you need this lying around? At least pile all the junk together on one side of the room.”   

“Okay, okay, I’ll take care of it later.” Those words only ticked me off more. I began one of my usual rants while pacing and waving my arms around.  

“You always say that! It’s so easy for you to put it off; you’re not the one getting hurt all the time…”   

Hubby suddenly grabs his arm and cries out in pain. Hmm…perhaps I should have put down the hammer before gesturing wildly?  

I couldn’t help but laugh. “See what I mean?” 







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