Saturday, September 16, 2006

True Wife Confessions 74 Gun Man o'war ala Billy Budd (my English Major Geek roots are showing)

Confession #731

Tonight you decided to dick out on me because I complained about going two
miles out of my way on my way home from work to get you a burrito from a
specific restaurant. No asking whether I felt like having a burrito for
dinner also; not even any consideration of my counter suggestion of my
picking you up a nearly identical burrito from a different restaurant that
was more on my way. Oh no, it had to be that burrito from that restaurant.
You didn’t even consider the fact that I have homework to do as well

When I let out the mildest of quips about it being out of my way, you threw
one of your 14 year-old temper tantrums and told me to "just forget about
it"; the more I offered to go get the fucking burrito anyway, the more of a
bastard you became. I’m considering buying one on the way home anyway, if
no other reason than to tell you to stick it up your self-righteous ass. Or
maybe smash it into one of those Statistics books that I am obviously not
enlightened enough to understand...anything to take the edge off of the
bullshit silent treatment punishment that awaits my arrival.

Confession #732

I know you didn't brush your teeth yesterday. Or the day before. Because after we got back from the trip, you left your toothbrush in my bag. And mine wasn't used before I got up. However, since this is the first time you've ever done anything like that, I won't say anything, cause I know it'll embarrass you.

Confession #733

I hate your mother! She is a low life!

When “B” was only seven years old and she called you mom to wish her a Happy Birthday on the way to school and was singing silly songs to her. When she accidentally used the word “Whore” instead of “Hog” and your mother screamed at me about it. Well let me tell you I was probably in more shock then your “precious mother” about the situation. I can guarantee that “B” never heard the word “whore” from me. Maybe your mother should have thought about how she was talking in front of “B” everything she yelled at your father for cheating on her with the Whores!

But more then that maybe you should have thought about the language your parents used in front of her when you were letting them raise her for so long before I came into the picture.


Confession #734

I wish you would step up every now and then and be 'the man'. I know, it's ridiculous. I'm a strong, independent, capable woman who doesn't believe in predefined gender roles. But I get tired of being the adult all the time. Pay some bills without me nagging you! I don't want to call and yell at the cable company for not showing up on time -- I want you to do that. I don't want to learn how to fix the shower, you should do that! I don't want to be the person responsible for car maintenance, you are the man! I don't want to be the one with the greater earning potential. It's totally ludicrous, because the car is mine, most of the bills are in my name and I've been paying them myself for ages longer than you, you are generally a pretty good handy man, and I have higher degrees (and thus more earning potential) than you do. But there are days I have to bite my tongue from saying, "YOU are the man, you take care of this."

I guess the flip side is that I need to be more grateful for all the work you do around the house and what a great cook you've become, and how willing you are to paint my toenails for me without caring if your friends know that you do that. Also, a more traditional man would probably be upset about me keeping my name, about my love of our basketball team and my loathing of doing laundry, and would probably not be anywhere near as loving, attentive and wonderful as you.

Confession #735

Thank you for taking care of our sick child on my first day of school. Thank you for doing the vomit laundry. Thank you for picking me up from school. Thank you for having dinner ready, and the sheets on the bed changed. They were even flannel, and you know how I love flannel sheets in the fall. Thank you for telling me to not worry about the tuition bill. Thank you for standing behind me, supporting me, and feeding me when I get home. Those are the reasons I stay married to you.

Confession #736

I have never been so angry as I was when you told me you thought we should not have bought the house. I was upset, miserable, unhappy, and I know you were too, but you were the one who pushed me when I wasn't sure. You convinced me, and for you to say it was a bad idea pissed me the hell off. Too late for objections now, buddy. Just learn plumbing find a way to fix the damn shower.

Confession #737

My confession: When I cracked the joke about masturbating, and you looked so surprised and exclaimed that I never masturbate? Yeah, I do. Almost everyday. I love you, you are masterful in bed, our sex is amazing (though we are both unhappy with frequency, and working on it), but honey, sometimes I can just get it done faster. And then I don't have reciprocate.

Confession #738

I'm sorry you became sick. More sorry than you will ever know. I'm also
sorry it has damaged your memory and your moods, your physical abilities
and your ability to speak clearly. Really, I am. However, it does not
give you the right to become angry with me and yell at me when I suggest
things to help you. Like suggesting you try to remember to clean yourself
correctly and put deoderant on. You did NOT remember to put it on, do not
tell me you did. It was EXACTLY as I left it so you wouldn't forget it.
And for god's sake use a washcloth to clean your underarms.... you've used
your hands since the day I met you. IT DOES NOT GET YOU CLEAN. You
stink... all I am doing is trying to help you not feel "different" when you
are out. I am sick of the yelling, the drama and the self pity that
accompanies each and ever day..... I am trying to be a good caregiver and
wife and mother, but you are making it more and more difficult. I will
only tolerate it for so long. I'm sorry you don't think your life can be
normal anymore..... but I'm even sorrier you won't at least try. If you
won't try for you or me, how about trying for our son? You are such a dick

Confession #739

You think your porn videos got lost in the move or are still in a box in the
garage. I threw them in the dumpster. I'm scared to tell you I did it.

Confession #740

To my husband, the all-important scholar: Oh, how I loathe your attitude
when you’re in school.

When the semester starts, your asshole factor increases by tenfold. You
become even more self-absorbed and self-righteous than you already are, and
at least five times more of a grandstanding fuckhead than before you went
back to college -- back when you used to bore me to tears with your endless
lectures on indie rock and left wing politics (which at least are subjects
which interest me, or did before you hammered me into the wall with your

You will pontificate ad nauseum on any subject which interests you, and God
help the individual who tries to make any kind of counterpoint when you’re
on one of your rolls. You’ll speak over them in increasing volume until the
"audience member" relegates himself or herself back down to the orchestra
pit where they belong; there’s no room for dialogue in your one-man show.
Too bad not everyone is in love with your half-assed mental masturbation as
much as you are.

Your imperious attitude toward your studies makes me choke on
bile...everything, and I mean EVERYTHING takes a back seat to your
all-important homework. "Silly wife, pester me not with chores and requests
for any attention or assistance...can’t you see that I’M STUDYING?!" Um,
yeah I can asswipe, because that’s exactly what I need to do too – yes, it’s
true; you’re not the only person in the world trying to put themselves
through school and work at the same time! I’m taking just as many classes
as you are, and even if you work ten hours per week more than I do it
doesn’t give you the right to act like a pompous prick.

Oh, and neither does the fact that you’re studying BUSINESS make you any
more intelligent or worthy of credit than my lowly fine-art studying self,
although you rarely take make the effort to conceal your disdain for what I
do. "All that stuff is just BULLSHIT anyway, I hardly see the point in
making it an academic discipline." The fact that this is coming from you --
who spent his 20’s trying (and failing) to "make it" as an indie rock
musician -- speaks volumes to anyone who isn’t as monumentally clueless as
you are. You sound like a newly converted whore.

Your mother could have done a lot better than to treat you and your
stuffed-shirt sanctimonious brothers like little princes when you were kids.
And you wonder why I’ve changed my mind about procreating.


Anonymous said...

7:40... that was fuckin'GREAT!!

Jaelithe said...

I agree, good job on that, husband of #735.

Anonymous said...

i think i love you, 740. :)

Anonymous said...

#740 for president!

Anonymous said...

#740 thanks each and every one of you for your kind words of support and praise. I'm feeling a lovely mixture of vindication and warm-fuzziness, and it rocks. :-)

Anonymous said...

#740: I read your post and got furious all over again at my grad-school boyfriend. He's bitter and too skinny now, living off his current girlfriend, and he will never finish his PhD NEENER.

Anonymous said...

740-you hit the nail on the head! My hubby is exactly like that. that was a great post.