Like most wives, I annoy my husband on the regular.
Most of these things are due to differences in perception.
For instance, I think I will DIE if I don’t have a drink at all times, and he thinks I won’t. “Lemme get a to-go cup. No, I cannot make the drive from home to Starbucks without a drink! That’s like, two miles or somethin!”
He hates it when I ask the wait staff to bring to-go cups, although he might be comin around, cause he orders one from time to time.
He thought he would make fun of me with my parents, “She can’t go anywhere without a drink!”
They looked at him like there should be more to the story.
Ahahaha! Please, my parents probably own stock in Tervis, and if they don’t, they should, really.
my HUGE to-go tervis, from sissy
I strongly suspect he hates how I take in animals, no matter how much he loves them. He’s always like, “We don’t need another cat,” or “We have two cats, we don’t need a dog,” or “We have two cats and a dog, we don’t need a goldfish, a pair of goats and some chickens.” I’m not sure he loves my Clara cat, because he’s always calling her an attention whore and accusing her of being jealous, but he pets her anyway. He loves Catticus kitty, and that dog he didn’t want me to rescue!? Oh yeah, he loves that dog more than he loves chocolate, and he spoils her rotten. Just rotten.
who looks jealous now?
He hates how I remember every little thing, except when I remember where his shit is, how he likes to be touched, which foods and flavors he likes, how he takes his coffee, or which jeans were his favorite so we can buy another pair exactly like them, and well, just every little thing, unless it involves something he said or did that might have been a wee bit dickish.
I could go on an on, really, I’m extremely annoying, both to live with, and about making lists about how I’m extremely annoying.
But last night, I may have overdone it on annoying. Let me tell you how this went, from my perception of his perspective:
I got up at six o’clock in the morning, and took that bitch’s dog out, while she slept comfortably in the white sheets with the embroidered detail that I think are too fuckin girly.
I fed that bitch’s cats, even the white one that she loves more than me.
I made that bitch some coffee.
I put on my white shirt and my black paisley tie. Bitches love ties.
I drove to work, through the clusterfuck that is I-465, being cut-off by fucktards in every direction.
I worked hard all day, helping rich clients solve their imaginary financial problems.
‘Ooh, did my wife just post a photo of pot roast? I fuckin love pot roast. At least when I’m done here, I can go home, sit on my couch, eat pot roast and watch tv.’
I drove home to find my house was a disaster. It looked like a bomb went off. Fortunately, my wife and daughters weren’t harmed during the incident, but my house was wrecked.
Then that bitch told me she did it on purpose! Bitches be crazy.
I’ve got a couch, a loveseat and a chair, but there was only one place to sit, because the whole fuckin livin room was covered in books.
Then that bitch said somethin about bein sorry, but Sassy had broken the bookshelf, and could I please fix it? Because I have to fix fucking everything.
That bitch rearranged the living room again!
I thought I would just go hang up my tie and chillax a mo, but the bomb had impacted the hallway outside of Moo’s room, and I’ll be damned if I didn’t hafta play fuckin hopscotch to get to my bedroom.
Roast smelled fuckin good, though.
I had to eat dinner at the table, with my wife and children, without tv, because again with the book explosion.
That bitch covered my plate in gravy and didn’t even make me eat a carrot, and that’s how I know she felt really bad about what she’d done, but not bad enough, because she forgot to pour me a glass of swate tay.
I ate my dinner in silence so I could focus on making the veins in my head pop out, so as to make sure my unhappiness was felt by all who made eye contact with me.
Don’t you know that bitch wasn’t fuckin phased? She went on and on all happy and shit, talkin about what the girls did, and how much she loves her new mixer, and won’t it be nice when we can look out the windows? Fuckin cheerful bitches. Goddamn.
“We’ll just go buy another bookshelf,” she said.
After dinner, I had to balance the checkbook, because I, too, have imaginary financial problems that make me think a $35 bookshelf will ruin me.
Although my wife told me she would go buy the bookshelf, and that I could stay home in the fuckin mess she made, I told her I would go, because bookshelves are heavy. She informed me that if I didn’t go, the store would provide her with a carry-out. Since I remember that carry-out boy she fucked in 1996, I went.
When we got to the store, the item was opened and I refused to buy it, because with my luck, I’d get home and all the hardware would be missing, and my wife would say some dumb shit like, “Don’t we have cams and metal screws in the hardware drawer? Or in your man bag or somethin?” Gah, bitches.
We drove to the second store, but they didn’t have any in the right color. My wife suggested we buy two whole new bookshelves in a different color. AHA! That bitch was schemin for new furniture! Twice as much money.
We had to buy Moo some bullshit craft thing and another toy for my dog to destroy in less than an hour. What the fuck ever.
Once we got home, I carried the one remaining bookshelf to Sassy’s room, and then I had to assemble those two new bookshelves in a totally different color. My wife can’t assemble a fuckin paper plane, for Chrissake.
Oh she said she would help, then it was all, “My hands! My hands!” Her bookshelf was all wobbly and shit.
Then, while I bolted them to the wall, that bitch got all touchy-feely, talkin dirty to me like I hadn’t been up all night fixin shit she broke for no good reason whatsoever.
Eventually, at like one o’clock in the morning, that bitch got all the books back on the shelf and we sat on our furniture the way God intended.
We went to bed at two, and that bitch better never rearrange a fuckin thing. She ain’t movin those bookshelves, ain’t no way she can get those screws out with “My hands! My hands!”
fuck it, look at my view, y’all!
And that, Ladies, is why you must always, always finish rearranging the house before your man gets home, and why you must never, ever, break anything in the process.
joeyfullystated 
Hahahaha! “I ate my dinner in silence so I could focus on making the veins in my head pop out, so as to make sure my unhappiness was felt by all who made eye contact with me.”
Priceless!
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Thank you so much, Linda 🙂
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I can’t stop laughing. I liked that you worked in the new mixer. I also relate to the dog toys. Our puppy is chewing through adult dog toys that are supposed to last for weeks.
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Thank you! My dog is a vicious chewer. We give her raw beef bones, antlers, hooves…She can take down a giant Nylabone in under an hour — very scary for her digestion. Dentastix for her are like cookies. But her teeth sure are pretty!
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Can’t help but suggest the WEST PAW Tux and/or Hurley toys for destructive dogs. Our Butthead ate EVERY TOY we ever bought her (except the black kong and including those TUFF toy things that she destroyed in 20 minutes) until we found the West Paw Tux. It’s a stuff-able treat toy and Butthead got it in her crate every day (still does occasionally) for almost a year and ALSO chews on it when it’s empty. Not a mark on that damn thing. So we bought the Hurley (a bone-shaped toy) which she also chews regularly and has not been able to destroy. Non-toxic and not terribly expensive. Best buys ever for a destruct-a-monster. 🙂
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I thank you for your recommendation 🙂 I will look for the WEST PAW toys!
She got a “Lambchop” last night and she loves it. She’s played fetch with it a few times, played with it on her own a bit, and has even been spotted snuggling it! It’s a first. 🙂
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We are JUST getting to a point where we can give Butthead a soft toy and not have her eat the entire thing. LOL Progress, I guess! Even so, she still loves her West Paw toys.
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This I sooooo funny. I love it:). Priceless and hysterical!
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Thanks, I’m so glad you liked it 😀
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HI-larious. I just don’t know how you managed to get into his head to learn all that AND STILL MAKE IT OUT ALIVE!
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Thank you! I’ve known him since we were kids, so it’s not hard, lol!
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Mine’s not so subtle. He throws temper tantrum’s like a 14 year old. He can’t do the vein thing, though. He got shot in the head with a bb gun when he was kid and the bb is still lodged right there in front, hampering any vein popping ability he might otherwise have had. However, I think the incident, and the still visible bb, might have stunted his emotional growth. He has other ways of letting me (us) know on purpose that he’s upset and it’s my (our) fault. Like kicking the couch. Although he shies away from that now because of the broken toe he suffered once because of it. From his perspective, I walk out of the room because I just can’t stand to be around him when he’s like that. I really just need to be someplace else where it’ll be easier to stifle the giggles and/or hide the eye-rolling.
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OMG LOL! Kat! that was hysterical! Broken toe, ahahaha!
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OMG, I wet my pants. Too funny. Are you going to let your husband read this? if so, write your perception of his perception of your perception of his perception!!!
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He read it before it was published. He liked it. I’m so glad you liked it!
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That made me laugh out loud. I can see you tested his tolerances with devilish skill.
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Thank you, Peter 🙂
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well, you sure do know how to tell a story…Men are crazy. All of ’em…darned if I know why we keep them. *snicker*…if they only knew…
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I keep mine because I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having him.
Yes, I am two years old. lol
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I had to read this twice. Not because I wasn’t paying attention the first time, but when I got to the veins popping out part, well, I went down a wormhole to my dinners with dad. Yeah. Yuck. So, when I got to the comments part and your readers were all LOL’ing and “great laugh!”ing, I thought, WTF? What did I miss?
THIS, for me, is the best thing: “He hates how I remember every little thing, except when I remember where his shit is, how he likes to be touched, which foods and flavors he likes, how he takes his coffee, or which jeans were his favorite so we can buy another pair exactly like them, and well, just every little thing, unless it involves something he said or did that might have been a wee bit dickish.”
BINGO.
Great post. One with many, many layers.
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Thank you, Maggie! 🙂
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Priceless my dear. And even more priceless that he loves you enough to proof read and allow you to post! 😀
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My husband doesn’t allow me to have sex with other people, and that’s the end of “forbidden” for our marriage. I am my own person. He usually reads my posts before anyone else, for fun 🙂
I’m glad you liked it!
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I loved it. It was funny!
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lmao!! I’m sure at least half of that was exactly what he was thinking too!
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