Why Hubbys’ Need Rules

It's amazing how I can always find the perfect google pic!

Another long day at work done. WOO HOO.

As you can tell, after a long day at work…my genius brain is practically all used up. So in order to keep the spark alive, I try and woo Hubby, but alas it doesn’t work.

Me: Wanna smell my feet?

Hubby: No. Not really.

Me: The shoes I wore today really make them smell. In fact (as I lift my feet to my nose and grimace) they REALLY smell. Smell them!

Hubby: No

Me: Don’t you love me? It is part of your job, as a HUBBY, to do things that your wifey says, even if you don’t like them.

Hubby: No it isn’t.

Me: Yea it is! It is in the I-got-married-and-now-what rulebook. It defines the rules that Husbands have to perform in order to keep their cute wifeys!

Hubby: What about the rulebook for wifeys?

Me: There isn’t one. Wifey’s are perfect JUST.THE.WAY.THEY.ARE.

UPDATE: I succeeded in shoving my feet in Hubby’s face. He looked like he might vomit.

Hubby: Those feet smell HORRIBLE. GEEZ

Me: I even febreezed them!

Hubby: You febreezed your feet?

Me: Yea

Hubby: Are you sure you didn’t miss?

Ain’t love grand?

The Rules Continued

We all were sitting around talking when I smelled it….sniff, sniff….the foul smell of dirty cat litter came wafting through my nose. YUCK. I can’t explain it, but there is something about this smell that just makes me want to gag. And I have smelled a lot of foul smells (namely the ones that come out of the bathroom after Hubby has been in there—but that is another blog), but nothing compares to dirty cat litter. We have two cats and a really cool Kitty Hut, which Hubby built for the cats with a ledge for them to step on ( see pic below).  So, usually the smells are enclosed. But the other night….whooo the smell was bad.

Me (screaming excitedly): NOT IT! NOT IT! NOT IT!

Hubby: What are you even talking about? You are crazy!

Me: The cat litter, I don’t want to clean it…you have too! I said NOT it…you know, it is in the rules! Remember, last one to call it has to clean up? (I shouldn’t have to remind him…he knows THE RULES).

Hubby (rolling his eyes): That doesn’t count! It only counts on cat vomit. (See Previous Post: https://goodbadandugly2.wordpress.com/2008/10/22/the-rules/)

Me: No it does not! It counts on everything.

Obviously, Hubby and I need to go back to the marriage contract, where I can SHOW him…he will need to re-read the fine print and the NOT IT RULE. There are no surprises, he knows the rules, I mean geez we have been married for a long time now…he was just jealous that he didn’t remember to proclaim them first! Rules are rules—and I am sticking to them. NOT IT, Hubby! NOT IT, NOT IT, NOT IT!

Isn’t he lucky to have me? I think so!

Below is Kitty Hut…in all it’s glory….

The Rules

Hubby and I are lying in bed reading. All of the sudden we hear the noise. The gagging, vomiting of Boston (cat) who previously just finished scarfing down his dry food. (I think he might be bulimic.) We stare at each other in disgust for a moment until I remember the GOLDEN RULE!

Me (proclaiming vehemently):  NOT  IT!

Hubby: What?! Why do I have to do it? I made lunches*!

Me: You know the rules! Whoever cries “not it” first doesn’t have to do it.

Me, Patches and Boston all stare while he (gaggingly) cleans it up.

Hubby: Enjoy the show?

And this, my friends, is why we should not ever have children! Because maturity was never one of my strong suits! J But, clearly, calling NOT IT is in the marriage rulebook—section, how to get out of gross things, right?

 

*Note: Lunches is a most hated task in our household, which whomever has the task can hold over the other in anticipation of getting out of any other hated task, however calling “NOT IT” trumps all—kinda like having a WILD card when playing UNO!