Dear Hubs, Got your letter. I've changed the Blogger password - you don't get full, unedited access again. What must people think of me? First, I agreed to go on a date with you when you were a complete asshole to me and then I let you write a list where you air all of my dirty laundry for the blogosphere to read about - you really had to talk about my maintenance issues? Anytime you're ready to get on all fours and get your ball sack and ass crack waxed you let me know and I'll book a double appointment for us to get a Brazilian.
Now everyone is waiting for my response and I don't know what to do. Should I go for scorched earth and pick on everything from you buying me roses at Aldi and your belching problem (who wakes up and needs to belch at 7 am??) or kill you with kindness (tell you why I love you in spite of your behavior)? Probably a bit of both.
I get it, you want more attention, but honestly, how much more attention can I give you? You are never happy with what you get. And you have a very short memory. You are constantly whining that it's been a week and really it's only been a day. I must not be that memorable, but I'm not taking all the heat here, it takes two and obviously your performance was just as unforgettable as mine. Maybe if it lasted longer than "5 minutes" (are we watching the same clock?) and you didn't go into hibernation right away you'd remember more.
And did you read the lady's orange analogy? I hate oranges, so I substituted watermelon, but the sentiment is still the same. Watermelon is messy and a real pain to prepare and clean up. I love watermelon, but just not every day, it's too much work.
Basically, I'll tell you what I tell the kids, The more you whine, the less it makes me want to do anything nice for you.
Instead I'll give you some advice. You want to get more action? Here's a hint. I want you to woo me. "Wooing me" is not saying: "You wanna get with this?" I overheard Gomer just this morning say to you, "Daddy, with your clothes off you look like a giant pickle." I have no idea what he means exactly, but you should take that to heart. No one wants to "get with" a giant pickle. Work on looking less pickle-like.
It really isn't that difficult to woo me. Just stop being so damn cheap. I don't need a candlelight dinner, roses and diamonds, but I do need a little more than a restaurant that you have a buy one/get one free coupon for. Stop using technology to stalk me - well the credit card, really. When I go shopping do not sit at home and track my purchases online. It's unnerving when you call me and ask me if I really needed whatever I bought for $73.24 at Bed, Bath & Beyond. It was especially shitty of you when I bought your Christmas present and as I was leaving the store you called and told me take it back because I'd spent too much and it wasn't what you really wanted.
I realize I'm not perfect either as you so eloquently pointed out in your letter. All the things you mentioned in your letter are a good start, but I think you missed the mark on a few of the points.
Yes, you do the bulk of the cooking and for that I am eternally grateful. You are a better cook than me any day of the week. You enjoy cooking and you are the better cook, so it makes total sense that you cook. HOWEVER, I clean up after you cook. I am the one who washes the pots and pans. I am the one who sweeps the floor, wipes the counters, clears the table, etc. You always forget that part.
While I appreciate that you load the dishwasher, it is only because you have a ridiculous OCD way it must be done. God forbid I put a cup or a bowl in the wrong place. I hear about it for days on end. Don't even get me started on your harping on me for running the dishwasher "too soon" and wasting money because it wasn't full enough to run. THAT is why you load the dishwasher, because no one can bear to listen to you bitch about something as silly as a dishwasher and I'd rather fight with you over real things.
I suppose you can call what you do "unloading" the dishwasher, but we have been married for 9 years and you would think that by now you would know where the plastic containers, the wooden spoons, casserole dishes, etc. go. I'll give you a hint: NOT on the counter. If it isn't a drinking glass (coffee mugs don't count), a plate, or a piece of silverware you have "no idea" where these belong. You HALF unload the dishwasher.
Yes, it's true that most mornings you do get up with the kids to "make" them breakfast. Breakfast in our house consists of yogurt, fresh fruit and dry cereal with milk on the side. You're not running an omelette bar every morning with fresh squeezed OJ.
And yes, you have let me "sleep in" on occasion (thank you for doing it just this morning, it was lovely). Rarely do I sleep through breakfast. I do stay in bed, but I am awake. Have you ever thought that maybe I'm giving you quality time with our children? You are making memories out there in the kitchen with them. They know that the mornings are their special one on one time with Daddy. You're welcome.
It's a lot like the quality time you give me at night when I put the kids to bed by myself, read to them, and talk to them. Thank you.
Also, those kids had better be the only children you have or we've got real problems. No woman finds that joke as funny as men do. Keep telling that joke and you really will go weeks without loving.
Another tip, never tell a lady that she needs to work out and that sex is good cardio. It just sounds like a horrible pick up line you probably heard on "Entourage" and my reply would be something equally snarky like "Honestly, sometimes running a marathon sounds like a more enjoyable cardio workout than sex with you."
At the end of the day you may think your list will sway me, but you forget about my trump card. I carried two babies in my belly for you. When you can carry a baby and give birth you let me know.
I vomited daily, I gave birth prematurely, I had emergency surgery, I had an episiotomy that still hurts to this day if I move a certain way, I shat on a table in front of a room full of people, I have hemorrhoids and stretch marks, I had mastitis, and baby blues.
We love those kids like nothing else. We'd each take a bullet for them, we'd do anything to make sure they are healthy, happy and loved. I am exhausted at the end of a day of making sure they are healthy, happy and loved there just isn't much left over for you.
Luckily, our marriage isn't based on sex. Lucky for us, our marriage is based on our strong commitment to our relationship, our love for each other, our ability to laugh at one another and with one another.
That being said, I'm still pissed that you called out my lack of grooming and if you think you're going to get any special time on Valentine's Day you'd better pull out all the stops. I say I don't need flowers and chocolates, etc., but I deserve them now. You owe me. Plus, Breaking Dawn is out on DVD. I think you should buy it for me and watch it with me. It's the least you can do, funny man, for your bushy, overgrown wife.
Much love and adoration,
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