So, here I am. And now I have no idea what to do. I am sorta terrified of throwing stuff out here. Especially if it involves my slightly crazy husband (referred to as POF). But here goes ...
I am taking this from an email I sent out this evening, featuring the story of my day. It finally inspired me to get off my butt and write something.
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Everyone always says I should write. I think about it, but never do. Today was one of those days that deserved to be documented though. So here it is. I call it Got Milk?
“Oh crap, I forgot to stop and get the milk“, I say.
He smiles at me and says, “I knew a long time ago that you forgot the milk.”
I glare. “When? When we drove by the grocery store and I didn’t say ‘Stop so I can get milk’?”
He is now smiling with nothing short of devilish glee.
This might just be the day I finally brain him with a heavy object. But let me back up.
It’s been a long day. We’ve been sniping at each other over something stupid - returning some items to Bath & Body Works.
It all started last weekend on my birthday. The big day happened to fall on a Sunday, so after church we were scheduled to meet my sister (half-sister actually, who also has the same birthday - but that is another story altogether), our dad and stepmother for lunch to celebrate. We ended up skipping church because we were doing some household projects that needed to be finished before company came over for cake and presents after lunch.
And then, at 11 AM, suddenly my husband needs to go to Home Depot and get a part to make the toilet stop running. Riiiiight. Like I don’t realize that what he really needs to do is go out and buy me a birthday present. Like I have not in seventeen years put two and two together - that he has to go run some random errand and then, upon his return, suddenly presents appear. It’s always the same for birthday, Christmas, Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day. But bless his heart, at least he tries.
So, he meets us at the restaurant, with a bag full of Bath & Body Works stuff and no toilet part. I look, and while he made a great attempt, he picked several scents that were way too flowery. And of course when I told him that I appreciated the sentiment, but I needed to return the stuff, he got his feelings all hurt and went into a pout. Poor baby.
Almost a week later, such a beautiful day, and we get the kid (our Minion) all packed up and head out to the dreaded mall to make the return. I drive. He’s too busy with his mind on his gig tonight to concentrate on anything else. We get about halfway there and I ask if he has the receipt. No, of course not. Andsomehow it’s all my fault because I didn’t remind him to get it, or ask him if he had it before we left. Silly me, I just assumed that since we were leaving to go and specifically return the items, he would have gotten the receipt from wherever he hid it. What was I thinking(sarcastic eye roll)?
So we turn around, both irritable now and starting to snap at each other over everything and nothing. We go all the way back home. He can’t find it. So I say that is fine, let’s just go do our other errands and worry about it another day. He gets all mad. No, by golly, we are doing it now, today. Without the receipt. We don’t need it anyway, he says, they can pull it up in their computer with is credit card number.
(Now, I don’t know what futuristic universe he lives in, but I have yet to have a store that can do that. He swears that he returns stuff ALL THE TIME and they do it, no problem. Apparently we shop at very different stores...in totally different realities)
So, back we go to the mall. Still sniping at each other. Every little thing irritates us. No patience at all. Happy, happy family. As a side note, I should mention that our Minion is by nature a pretty happy kid, and he is just happy as a clam, riding in his stroller, checking out all the people in the mall. There's a lot to look at here people. This is the South, and our local mall has no shortage of rejects from Freebird Trailer Park and Gangstas R Us.
We get to the store and the lady at the door greets us. She is very nice and asks what she can do to help us today. He says we are here for a return. She asks if we have the receipt. He says no, but he has the credit card. She looks at him with a puzzled expression on her face. He tells her that she should just look it up in her system with his card number. She still looks a bit confused, and tells him that they don't have a computer system that does that kind of thing - the register is just a register. He gets angry and says yes they can, stores do it all the time. He has That Tone. Things are about to get ugly.
I step in and say what I really want to do is just exchange for some different scents. Fine, that can be done. He leaves the store, angry about the whole computer thing. I run around the store to make my exchanges, trying to hurry in the crowded store, and finally I am through.
We are still a bit grumbly on the way out to the car and he won’t let that poor lady off the hook about the receipt thing.
“I’ll drive from here,” he says as he puts the Minion into his car seat.
Of course he will. Now that we are heading to the music store so I can buy him a $50 bass drum head, his mood has much improved. We head in, let the Minion bang on some drums for a bit, buy what he needs, and leave, all without really saying much to each other at all. It’s time to head back home so he can get ready to leave for his gig tonight.
He still insists that they can pull up his info in their computer without the receipt.
“Oh crap, I forgot to stop and get the milk“, I say.
He smiles at me and says, “I knew a long time ago that you forgot the milk.”
I glare. “When? When we drove by the grocery store and I didn’t say ‘Stop so I can get milk’?”
He is now smiling with nothing short of devilish glee.
This might just be the day I finally brain him with a heavy object. But let me back up.
It’s been a long day. We’ve been sniping at each other over something stupid - returning some items to Bath & Body Works.
It all started last weekend on my birthday. The big day happened to fall on a Sunday, so after church we were scheduled to meet my sister (half-sister actually, who also has the same birthday - but that is another story altogether), our dad and stepmother for lunch to celebrate. We ended up skipping church because we were doing some household projects that needed to be finished before company came over for cake and presents after lunch.
And then, at 11 AM, suddenly my husband needs to go to Home Depot and get a part to make the toilet stop running. Riiiiight. Like I don’t realize that what he really needs to do is go out and buy me a birthday present. Like I have not in seventeen years put two and two together - that he has to go run some random errand and then, upon his return, suddenly presents appear. It’s always the same for birthday, Christmas, Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day. But bless his heart, at least he tries.
So, he meets us at the restaurant, with a bag full of Bath & Body Works stuff and no toilet part. I look, and while he made a great attempt, he picked several scents that were way too flowery. And of course when I told him that I appreciated the sentiment, but I needed to return the stuff, he got his feelings all hurt and went into a pout. Poor baby.
Almost a week later, such a beautiful day, and we get the kid (our Minion) all packed up and head out to the dreaded mall to make the return. I drive. He’s too busy with his mind on his gig tonight to concentrate on anything else. We get about halfway there and I ask if he has the receipt. No, of course not. Andsomehow it’s all my fault because I didn’t remind him to get it, or ask him if he had it before we left. Silly me, I just assumed that since we were leaving to go and specifically return the items, he would have gotten the receipt from wherever he hid it. What was I thinking(sarcastic eye roll)?
So we turn around, both irritable now and starting to snap at each other over everything and nothing. We go all the way back home. He can’t find it. So I say that is fine, let’s just go do our other errands and worry about it another day. He gets all mad. No, by golly, we are doing it now, today. Without the receipt. We don’t need it anyway, he says, they can pull it up in their computer with is credit card number.
(Now, I don’t know what futuristic universe he lives in, but I have yet to have a store that can do that. He swears that he returns stuff ALL THE TIME and they do it, no problem. Apparently we shop at very different stores...in totally different realities)
So, back we go to the mall. Still sniping at each other. Every little thing irritates us. No patience at all. Happy, happy family. As a side note, I should mention that our Minion is by nature a pretty happy kid, and he is just happy as a clam, riding in his stroller, checking out all the people in the mall. There's a lot to look at here people. This is the South, and our local mall has no shortage of rejects from Freebird Trailer Park and Gangstas R Us.
We get to the store and the lady at the door greets us. She is very nice and asks what she can do to help us today. He says we are here for a return. She asks if we have the receipt. He says no, but he has the credit card. She looks at him with a puzzled expression on her face. He tells her that she should just look it up in her system with his card number. She still looks a bit confused, and tells him that they don't have a computer system that does that kind of thing - the register is just a register. He gets angry and says yes they can, stores do it all the time. He has That Tone. Things are about to get ugly.
I step in and say what I really want to do is just exchange for some different scents. Fine, that can be done. He leaves the store, angry about the whole computer thing. I run around the store to make my exchanges, trying to hurry in the crowded store, and finally I am through.
We are still a bit grumbly on the way out to the car and he won’t let that poor lady off the hook about the receipt thing.
“I’ll drive from here,” he says as he puts the Minion into his car seat.
Of course he will. Now that we are heading to the music store so I can buy him a $50 bass drum head, his mood has much improved. We head in, let the Minion bang on some drums for a bit, buy what he needs, and leave, all without really saying much to each other at all. It’s time to head back home so he can get ready to leave for his gig tonight.
He still insists that they can pull up his info in their computer without the receipt.
"How do they do it with the receipt?", he asks with this sort of smug look on his face. "They can do it, they just don't want to, because it's not convenient."
The debate over this is what causes me to forget that we need to stop at the grocery store and get milk. And of course, his not stopping, when he did remember, is his way of paying me back for the receipt thing earlier. He gets mad when I don’t take his side. Especially in public.
I love him. I do. But he’s crazy sometimes with his left field logic. Lucky for him he has a gig tonight - cause it’s possible that there’s a heavy object with his name on it.
I love him. I do. But he’s crazy sometimes with his left field logic. Lucky for him he has a gig tonight - cause it’s possible that there’s a heavy object with his name on it.
And this is part of the reason I don't write. Most of my stories involve him in some way. And he would be mortified (either embarrassed or mad or both) if he thought that the whole universe was reading about him.
When we are with our two best friends, who are married, and in fact got the two of us together, he gets all red in the face and leaves the room if my BFF and I even hint at the subject of sex. Like he doesn't want anyone to know that the two of us actually have it. Which, at this point, is pretty obvious - well, at least that we did it the one time.
He's still iffy on Facebook - he doesn't want pictures or anything up that people might be able to use against him. I swear we are one step away from digging a cave and building a militia on this hill sometimes.
When we are with our two best friends, who are married, and in fact got the two of us together, he gets all red in the face and leaves the room if my BFF and I even hint at the subject of sex. Like he doesn't want anyone to know that the two of us actually have it. Which, at this point, is pretty obvious - well, at least that we did it the one time.
He's still iffy on Facebook - he doesn't want pictures or anything up that people might be able to use against him. I swear we are one step away from digging a cave and building a militia on this hill sometimes.
(mental note: don't tell anyone about this that might tell him. and p.s. - don't ever let him read it)
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