Hubby called yesterday to see if I was behaving myself. Well, as we all know…I am never one to behave myself…especially when I don’t get my afternoon nap in on my furlough day.
Hubby: So, what have you been up to?
Me: Scaring small children in the neighborhood.
Me: Well, this little boy came to our door and wanted me to go look for his ball that he threw into our yard. I went out and looked for it, but couldn’t find it. It was annoying, it was like he wanted me to fetch his ball and I wasn’t all about that. So, I told him he could come in and go into the backyard and look for it if he wanted it that bad. I mean, he shouldn’t have thrown it into our yard in the first place. Only he got really scared and said “I don’t think my Mom would let me go into a stranger’s house.” So, I said sorry—I can’t find it….and shut the door and locked it.
(Note: Now before you all get mad at me, you need to realize our backyard is filled with weeds that come up to my knees AND giant landmines….not people friendly….so while I did take a quick glance around….I wasn’t about hacking through our weed jungle to find the missing ball. AND the kids are constantly throwing stuff into our backyard….so forgive me for my lack of patience.)
Hubby: Awww poor little boy! You are so mean. He probably now associates you as the MEAN OLD LADY in the neighborhood. Way to start a reputation.
So, Hubby is out and about again on some consulting work. It is quite exciting really, because I get the bed to myself for 2 weeks. However, I will miss annoying him. The truth is, I already (kind of) miss him…but don’t tell him that!
Whenever Hubby goes out of town, the pets always tend to act up a little. For instance, after getting up at 4:30AM to take Hubby to the airport, I decided to let Patches out quick to go potty and then my plan was to go straight back to bed. However, Americus, had other plans. There I was opening the door for Patches to come back in (just a crack mind you). When out runs Americus.
Me: Americus get back in here!
So, I run out after her, inadvertantly shutting the door behind me, which I had conviently locked. (Not genius material, people)
So there I am outside, locked out, with Americus staring up at me. I wanted to strangle her.
Eventually, I broke in through an open window. However, this is strike one against her. It’s like she KNOWS Hubby is away and figures it is her job to keep me entertained….nice right?
Pets: 1 Me: 0
Over the weekend, I was procrastinating. This entailed moving at a snail-like pace….barely getting ready to go out. Hubby wanted to take my car in because it has been acting funny.
Me (playing at the computer, caught in the act)
Hubby (meanly): WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! GET DONE. I don’t want to wait in long lines to get your car done!
Me(surprised he caught me): I am just taking a quick break, you were in my way!
Me: Clearly we need a break from each other! I can’t wait for you to leave this week!
Hubby: Me Too! How does leaving tomorrow for two weeks sound?
Me: That is just not soon enough!
And that is how much we love each other….ha ha
Filed under Life, marriage
A couple of weeks ago, I took a furlough day. What did I do with this wonderful day? I picked weeds.
(Note: Apparently, the NOT IT rule doesn’t work on weed picking. I want to see that fine print, Hubby.)
I used to think it would be amazing to live in the desert because of the lack of lawn maintenance, especially after moving from CT, where we had a yard the size of a medium jungle. Which was OH SO MUCH fun to maintain. So, once we got out West, I had a new-found passion for rocks. You know good ol’ rocks. You don’t have to mow them, you don’t have to clean them, you don’t have to maintain them. They simply just sit there and look pretty, so I thought.
BOY WAS I WRONG. How, you ask?
An infestation of weeds. We are not talking little, tiny weeds we are talking BIG, GYNORMOUS, HUGE Tree weeds. And not only are they HUGE, but their roots and stalks are the width of a paper towel roll. WHA?
Moral of Story: I HATE rocks. They are evil, they are NOT easy to maintain, and I guess I am just not cut out for yard work. AND I am lazy.
NOT IT Rules REINVOKED.
I love the Easter Bunny, and at our house he ALWAYS comes. (Albeit in the form of Hubby, but that is besides the point)
One of my most favorite things that Hubby does for me is that he makes a big deal out of the Holidays for me. I don’t know why, but I.LOVE.HOLIDAYS. LOVE EM. Especially when it comes to holidays where one “gets” things. Easter baskets are a favorite for me because you get chocolate and LOTS of it. And because you have to go look for your basket….I like a little bit of a challenge, however if Hubby hides the baskets too well….well then I get crabby when I can’t find mine fast enough.
So, this holiday, the sisters are demanding Easter baskets too….
Rae: You better make me an Easter basket!
Hubby: No, I don’t have too….
Rae: Yes you do! Please? I will do the dishes (this is clear desperation here, people!)
Later on Hubby calls me
Hubby: So, I (the Jew) have to make you and your sisters Easter Baskets? What is wrong with this picture? And depending WHO is the nicest determines the SIZE of their Easter basket!
Me: I get the BIGGEST one! And don’t forget to hide them in good places–but don’t make mine too hard!
Gotta love Easter time! Hope you all have a great one!
So, it isn’t like I have a problem or anything, but I noticed that so far this entire week I have guzzled no, eh downed, no drank some sort of liquor beverage every night. Not that there is anything wrong with that, right?
I have determined that work causes me to drink. But, that is a different story for a different day. So, I come home after a hard day of work and Hubby pours me a nice glass of Crown and Coke. Yea, I am a whiskey, beer, wine, you name it, I will drink it gal. Judge away.
I think I am totally cool downing my whiskey, that is until I get a text from a friend.
Friend: You drunk yet?
Me: No, but I am drinking coke and Crown.
Friend: You are so classy.
Me: Don’t be jealous
But, I am right? I mean, I am classy and lady-like. That is why Hubby likes me, right? (BELCH).
Or is it cause he thinks he will get lucky?
P.S. Hubby oftens suffers from spouts of delusion, especially when I have a drink in hand. (BRRPPP)
Is it strange that for the second morning in a row, I woke up on the floor next to the bed? How did I get there? I don’t remember it. Meanwhile, looked up to find Patches, the dog with her head on my pillows, snoring, and sprawled out like a person on MY side of the bed. Then, under further examination, I find Hubby snuggling up to her, with his arm around her belly.
Clearly, I have been replaced by the dog. I think this is a conspiracy. I think I have been ousted. Evil BED HOG. How is she doing this? And HOW does Hubby not realize that he is snuggling up to a big, hairy beast?
I am not big or hairy …..nor a beast. At least I don’t think.
Stupid Bed Hog.
I think it is time for a bigger bed. Or maybe I should just get my OWN bed. Yea, I like that idea better. 🙂