Okay, so I have an awesome husband. Like he totally kicks ass, and if I ask him to do something like pack a lunch or toss the laundry into the dryer, he’ll do it without complaint. But that’s the problem. I have to ask him. Urrrggghhh, it is SOOOOOO annoying. And half the time I end up asking him in a super passive-aggressive way with a noticeable eye roll.
Husbands are clueless (gross generalization but I guarantee most of you are nodding your heads). Not because they’re genuinely stupid or anything. They’re just wired differently. It would never occur to my husband to ask for a gift receipt, or to pick up my daughter’s skating costume, or to dress Holden in a decent shirt because it’s picture day. It’s not his fault really. I’m pretty sure it’s a physiological difference between men and women. But I end up doing like 99% of the shit around here (I’m totally exaggerating, it’s more like 95%) just because lots of stuff occurs to me that never even occurs to him.
So here goes. A bunch of shit I do that my hubby doesn’t appreciate because he probably doesn’t even know I do them:
1. After-school activities
Riddle me this Bat-husband, when one kid wants to take ice-skating, art class, gymnastics and Girl Scouts and the other kid wants to take swimming, basketball, soccer and baseball and there are only seven days in the week, how do you figure out a feasible schedule? Answer: YOU don’t. I do. Every single semester.
It’s a miracle!! Our kid had a growth spurt and grew seven inches but his clothes still fit. Ummm, yeah, not a miracle. I cleaned out his entire closet last night, returned the old hand-me-downs, sorted the new hand-me-downs, and restocked his closet. On second thought, saint me. It’s an F’ing miracle.
HUBBY: What do you want to do for dinner?
ME: I want to shove an apple in your mouth, lay you across a big ass platter and then decorate you with a few sprigs of rosemary to feed to the kids to eat while I go out with my friend for sushi. Ohhhh, wait, you didn’t mean “what do I WANT to do for dinner.” You meant what did I PLAN to do for dinner? Yeah, basically if I didn’t think about meals ahead of time, our family would either starve to death or overdose on Domino’s.
4. Birthday parties
Last year I spent 37 hours on birthday parties. Not AT birthday parties. ON them. As in RSVP’ing to them, planning them, shopping for presents, and schlepping my kids back and forth. Could I leave this all up to my husband? Sure. But then my kids would never go to birthday parties anymore. Hmmmmm, maybe that’s not a bad idea after all.
See this guy? Nope, this is not Cousin Itt from the Addams Family. This, my friends, is what my son would look like if I put my husband in charge of getting him haircuts. Or pretty much any appointment.
6. School forms
This is what I sound like every year in a pathetic attempt to let my husband know the hell I’m going through.
ME: Uggghhh, I have to fill out allllllll of these school forms. These school forms are so painful. And now I have to bring these school forms to the doctor’s office to get these school forms filled out. Ugghh, I HATE school forms.
And this is what my husband hears.
ME: Blah blah blah yada yada yada I want to have sex blah blah blah.
Seriously, I’ll bet he doesn’t even know that school forms even exist.
7. Buy important shit
You know what I love (translation: hate)? I hate that my hubby thinks I go to Target because I love shopping. Hey honey, here’s is a list of shit I buy there and please tell me if you want me to stop buying any of these things: toilet paper, toothpaste, toothbrushes, food, underwear, soap, floss, band-aids, tampons, sponges and razors. As in if I didn’t shop there I would literally look like Chewbacca’s second cousin and we would all smell worse than the porta-potties at Lalapalooza.
8. 9,000 other things I don’t have time to elaborate on (This list is long and boring so just skim it)
Schedule doctor appointments, do Zoey’s hair every morning, return library books, sign permission slips, book parent teacher conferences, arrange carpools, figure out play dates, volunteer at school, buy clothes, borrow clothes, field calls from the school nurse, research shit like potty-training and tantrums, plan birthday parties, make grocery lists, nag my hubby about house problems, clean out the playroom once in a while, nag my hubby about house problems he still didn’t fix, check kids for lice when that dreaded letter comes, make dentist appointments, know when we’re running out of stuff before we actually run out of it, take care of the kids if they are sick, take care of my hubby if he is sick (God help me), buy school supplies every year, figure out what to do all summer, breastfeed (yes, it was years ago, but I will take credit for this for the rest of our lives), clean the pot he left to “soak” in the sink, buy holiday gifts for a million people, buy end-of-the-year gifts, buy pretty much any gift our house is going to give to anyone, clean out the fridge, clean out the junk drawer, clean out pretty much anything behind a door or in a drawer, etc etc etc etc etc etc. There really aren’t enough etceteras in the world.
So there you go. I am the mom. I do everything. Almost. I don’t take out the trash. But I usually have to remind him that it’s trash day.
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And looks what’s on sale!! The kindle version of I Want My Epidural Back!! It has a whole hilarious section on clueless hubbies that you can read and LOL at and your hubby will wonder what you’re laughing at and you can be like, “Oh, nothing honey.” Bwhahahahahaha.