Posts Tagged Husband

I would like to take an informal survey.

Don’t worry, I know your time is valuable, but I assure you, this is a very important matter.

Let’s say HYPOTHETICALLY that I was sitting on the couch watching TV. I’m watching, ohhhh, let’s say Big Bang Theory.

Then, what if John, my husband, came downstairs, grabbed the remote, and started flipping channels. WHILE THE SHOW WAS ON, NOT DURING A COMMERCIAL.

Would you think that it would be overreacting for me to FREAK THE HELL OUT and start snatching at the remote? How about if he gave me a shitty look and then both refused to let me have it back and did NOT return to the channel and show I was enjoying before he entered the room like some kind of Assholian Dictator?

If this kind of a scenario, or you know, something like it, happened, then would it be kind of over the top if I lost my shit and yelled, “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU!??” while visualizing myself strangling him until his lips turned blue and fell off? Would that just be too much?

I mean, it is only television after all. What do you think?

You know, I’m just wondering, in case something like that ever actually happens and I had the strong urge to beat my husband about the face relentlessly with the remote once I finally did snatch it back.

This way, I’ll know if it’s justified or not.

Thank you for your time.

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A transformation.

It’s a ring.

When I’m asked what Christmas gift I remember the most, this ring is the first image that surfaces in my mind. One of the most beautiful opals I have ever seen sits like a regal queen atop a shining, golden band. On each side of her, like ladies in waiting, is a tiny diamond, twinkling playfully.

I am not obsessive about jewelry. I appreciate things of beauty, and with these types of decoration I tend to gravitate towards simplicity.

I had never before received expensive jewelry from a lover. I had never really desired it, to be honest. Regardless of that, I found this piece perfect. When I opened the box, I was floored and pleased.

It is beauty, basic and true. I loved it immediately, and still do.

A person special to me worried over the selection of this ring. He had labored over this choice, and this ring had spoken to him.

While it is certainly true that the ring is stunning, that is not why it is my most memorable gift. There is magic in my memory of this gift, but it is not because I received the ring on Christmas day.

The real magic lies in what it later became – an engagement ring. The man who painstakingly chose that gift for me did not know that later I would switch the hand on which the Queen Opal rode, as promise to marry him.

My most memorable Christmas gift was a pretty, shiny adornment that later transformed into a symbol of love, basic and true.

Beautiful.

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Today’s post is my answer to The Gift, a writing challenge at {W}rite-of-Passage.

The following people took the challenge, too.

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Dear Old Fart That I Love,

Yes, you forget things *cough* occasionally.  Your knees are bad (snap, crackle, pop!).  You tell Braden it’s time for his bath when it’s time for his nap.  You tell him it’s time for his nap when it’s time for his bath. (By the way, he doesn’t even notice – I’m the only one who does.  And I’m required to make fun of you for it, so just get used to it.)

07.04.09 The fireman is totally getting ready to mooch the pudding.

Don’t even think about sharing that pudding with him – you know it will go right to your old gut.

Your hair might be thinning… don’t worry, you’re going to get more and more of it in your nose and ears to make up for this.  Your back hurts, but I’m here to distract you from that by demanding that you rub mine (and don’t forget my feet)!  I am just that loving.

And yes, I might feel the need to make endless jokes about you being old just because you turn 40 today.

It’s because I love you.  And I’m glad you’ve been around for this long, and I’m hoping to make fun of how freaking old you are for so very much longer.

06.25.09 Pa And The Boy

You are a wonderful (old ass) daddy and fabulous (decrepit, aging) husband.  Hey – look at it this way:  When men age, society kindly chooses to say that they are developing a bald head and a fat gut character and charm.  Women?  Get slow, fat and grow a beard.  Maybe don’t worry so much about your aging – it’s mine you might want to start being concerned about.  *wink*

Be careful on the road and hobble home as soon as you can.  I will miss your old ass from afar for now, you wonderful, old fart.

Happy 40th Birthday!

Love,
Your hot, young wife.

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being out of touch and kind of an emotional wussbag

You could call me asleep since the 90s a completely clueless old fart slightly out of the loop, and you’d be right.  I don’t stay current with all the hottest new music, the best new technology, or the latest fashion trends.  I notice some things, much I do not.

I feel like being online, especially on Twitter, does keep me up to date with things, but it still seems like I miss a lot.  I’m constantly having this conversation in email with my more observant, hip friends:

Me: Huh? Dur.

Hip Friend: What, Bitch? You didn’t know?

Me: Huh? *fart*

Hip Friend: Yeah, it’s been around for ages now. Where have you been?

Me: Huh? Dur.

Hip Friend: I have no idea why I even talk to you, loser.

So, yeah.  I am kind of a ditz in that “doesn’t know what the hell is going on” kind of way.  Lingo, for example, hits me from weird places.  I was on the phone with my husband last night, telling him about how Braden was sick and having a hard time sleeping.

John was between shows downtown.  He was driving to the second show, and after we’d chatted briefly, he told me, “I’ve gotta jump.” Uh, okay? It took me a minute, but I got it.  Still, I had a hard time not quipping, “There better be something just out of your reach, over your head, because if you’re on a bridge, I hope you rot in hell.  You could at least wait until we have something in savings before you kill yourself.  I’d have to get a job and everything, you selfish, insensitive bastard.”

Yeah. It’s a loving, gentle relationship.

But, “Jump?”  WTF?  Is this what the kids and trendy young adults are saying now when they want to get off the phone?  Yeah, I’m feeling a bit like I have cobwebs.  Not in my house, but ON ME.  And for the record, that jerk is older than I am but HE GETS TO LEAVE THE HOUSE REGULARLY.  AND DO STUFF.  WITH PEOPLE.

Ass.

Anyway, totally wandered away from the actual thing I wanted to talk about.

I’ve seen a commercial put together by a local news station several times now.  I am drawn into the commercial every time because the way it is shot is really cool (black and white, different speeds) and the song always pulls my attention.  I had no idea what it was, and kept wondering if this was a popular song I have just missed (would not surprise me).

I saw the commercial again tonight, hit YouTube and found it, and listened to the whole song while watching the video.

Really, actually listened to the words, felt them.

Got the deeper meaning, was moved.  A couple of tears slipped down my cheeks.

I kind of like it when something has the power to move me like that, with no warning.

What song(s) have the power to move you?

Also, I should probably check PMS Buddy… I totally haven’t kept track of my cycles anymore and this could be a sign that I need to be protecting my underwear soon.  Because The Red Crotch is, I’m pretty sure, not the latest fashion trend.

Right?

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