Husbands say the darndest things [part 2]

This is a conversation I just had with my husband while cleaning up together after dinner. Conversations like this make me wonder… well… you’ll see…

Right when I finish filling the dishwasher, husband comes over with a glass in hand.

H: Do you have room for this?
M: Nope.
H: Let me see.
M: There’s no room.
H: [pushes past me] I’ll just check the bottom rack. … … *growl* There’s gotta be room in here…
M: I just finished filling it. There’s no room.
H: [continues trying to move things around to fit one more glass in]
M: Just give up. Leave it on the counter and I’ll put it in for the next load.
H: [growls and says a snarky comment about my poor stacking skills, then pulls the portable dishwasher to the sink to start running it]
M: Don’t start that yet, I want to clean up the girls before we plug it in.
H: Eh. They’re fine. Peanut’s still eating and Bear’s drinking her milk. [continues to futz with the dishwasher]
M: … … … I know. But I don’t want to start the dishwasher until they’re done and I can clean them up while the faucet’s still free.
H: [Reaches for the dishwashing detergent… still ignoring me]
M: WOULD YOU GET OUT OF HERE?! [reaches for the detergent]
H: [dives for the detergent] Mine! I’ll do it!
M: [eyeroll] Oh my god. You’re ridiculous. I was doing this first, why do you insist on getting in my way?
H: I was cleaning up first, not you.
M: Whatever, just don’t start the dishwasher yet.
H: *growls* Fine. [holds up a pamphlet for a local politician in my face] Hey, does this look like {so and so}’s brother to you?
M: Did you take that out of the recycling?!
H: No! [looks around guiltily] I put it back…
M: No you didn’t! You still have it! Why did you take that out of the recycling?
H: [completely ignores me and quotes Homer Simpson] *chuckling* Implied, Marge? Or Implode?
M: … … … You’re unbelievable. I feel like I’m talking to a child.
H: *laughs hysterically* [comes and gives me a big hug from behind]
M: *growl* Don’t touch me. Go away.
H: Oooooh. But I wuuuv youuuu. *snickers*
M: Oh my god, go away.
H: Don’t you love me?
M: No.
H: Yes you do.
M: Get out.
H: *laughs again* Why don’t you love me?
M: Because you’re annoying me.
H: Ooooh, you don’t mean that. … … … You know… all this anger is only making me-
H: [Smiles mischievously]
M: … … … [rolls eyes]
H: [continues to smile and does a little dance]
M: *giggle* [immediately realized I cracked and laughed and went back to my scowl… but it’s too late. He saw.]
H: [leaves the room with a victorious grin on his face]

Oh, he won the battle… but I WILL win the war….


Husbands say the darndest things

Conversations with my husband:

Husband brings two beer bottles to the kitchen table during dinner and announces he wants to do a taste test. One beer is his home-brew, the other is the legit storebought beer. He wants to know which beer I like better. I took a sip of the first one and nearly fell over dead n the spot.

me: ACK! This is terrible! *shudders*
husband: Well, just taste the other one…
(I taste the other one, it’s WORSE)
me: AAAAUUUGH! *smacks lips and desperately looks around for something to wash down the taste*
husband: So? Which one do you like better?
me: Uhh… I hated that one less…
husband: You like mine better!
me: I wouldn’t go that far… What IS that?!
husband: It’s S________’s rye-PA, and my rye-PA.
me: Why did you give me that?! You know I hate IPAs. I HATE bitter beer!
husband: But… these are so good!
(husband pours both of the remaining beers out into their glasses.)
husband: Ok, which one are you going to finish?
me: NO way. I’m not drinking anymore of that!
husband:  What?! *looks genuinely distraught* You have to!
me: Nope. *crosses arms*
husband: *whines* But I can’t drink two beers at once without needing a nap…

Yes, ladies and gentlemen. My husband, the manly man. My sister’s favorite story about him is when he passed out after a couple of glasses of gin and tonic, then insisted that he was taking a nap… sprawled on the bed and snoring like a banshee.


Last night I came down with a nasty sore throat from a cold. You know, those colds where the back of your throat and nasal passage is incredibly tender. Husband had to take the dog to the vet this morning, so I asked him on the way out to pick up some cold medicine for me. After husband gets home I ask him about it.

me: So, did you get the cold medicine?
husband *looks confused* No?
me: Why not?
husband: *shrugs* The vet doesn’t have people medicine.

uh, oh

I just posted this to my facebook wall:

I think “uh, oh” is Buddy’s new favorite word. For the last few days I’ve been hearing a chorus of “uh, oh” all through the house. While I’m happy he’s finally experimenting with new words, “uh, oh” never bodes well for my nerves.

It starts out innocently enough.  He takes his bib off and drops it on the floor and says, “uh, oh!”  and points to it for me to grab.  That’s simple enough.  Then he finishes eating and climbs out of his high chair and runs away before I can catch him and clean him.  While I’m at the kitchen sink wetting a rag I hear, “uh, oh!” in the living room.  *sigh*  I walk in and find Buddy standing over a milk puddle from his now lidless sippy cup.  As I’m cleaning that up, Buddy charges into the girl’s room and I hear a giant crash.  Moments later, Buddy pokes his head around the corner to tell me, “uh, oh!” then dissapears again.  I roll my eyes and continue cleaning up the milk.  When I don’t come right away, Buddy runs out of his sister’s room and grabs my arm repeating, you guessed it, “uh, oh.”  The longer I ignore his favorite word on repeat, the louder he gets.  Awesome.  I soak up the remainder of the milk and toss the rag in the sink and follow Buddy, now screaming “UH, OH!” at the top of his lungs, into the girls room to find evevry book, toy and picture frame sprawled on the floor.  He points to the pile proudly and looks at me smiling.  “Uh, oh.”  I shake my head and think about how I’m looking forward to when he starts saying, “Don’t worry, Mom.  I’ll clean it up.”  Kids DO say that, right?  Right?!?!

The worst past about all of this is that at least with Buddy I was blissfully ignorant of just how destructive a child can be.  Now that I have the girls, I can’t help but look at them apprehensively when they do something new and think, “uh, oh.”

Optimism can kiss my…

Our upcoming vacation was supposed to be the grandest occasion of my husband and I’s alone time.  More importantly, it was supposed to be our vacation away from stress.


Well, apparently the gods say it’s not so.  There’s supposed to be scattered thunderstorms that Friday and Saturday, then rain Sunday.  I won’t get into how absolutely un-characteristically angry I am about this (If you know me, you know my hot temper.  Therefore you know this says a lot about just how angry I am).  I won’t tell you that we had pretty much everything planned outdoors.  Including cherry picking, a winery/vineyard tour, a drive-in double feature movie theatre, hiking and exploring a (what I imagine is a small, but still exciting to check out) cave.  I also won’t tell you that we were planning on camping one of those nights.  You know… like… outside.  In the middle of the thunderstorm.  I won’t complain to you about how I wanted to grill some stuff over the campfire and read a book and relax on the beach which is amazingly close to our campsite.  I won’t immediately follow that up with pointing out that our campsite is FEET from Lake Michigan and we’ll probably be washed away overnight never to be found again.  I know you don’t want to hear me complain and be melodramatic over the fact that there’s a chance of our one single amazing weekend of “no worries” being absolutely and irrevocably ruined.

Instead, I’ll share with you the conversation with my husband that followed this thunderstorm discovery:

me: *stomps down the stairs* I’m SO pissed right now!

(I should add that husband was in the middle of making a new batch of beer, which tends to make him the most agreeable creature on the planet)

husband: *gets the”uh oh, what did I do now?” look on his face* What?  Why?

me: I just checked the weather for our vacation.  Friday, scattered thunderstorms.  Saturday, scattered thunderstorms.  Sunday RAIN!

husband: *looks relieved* Oh, I thought you were mad at me.

me: Aren’t you mad?!

husband:  well, it sucks yeah.  But you said it was scattered right?  Maybe it’ll miss us.

me: We had almost everything planned outside though!  What, are we supposed to run through the trails at a dead sprint because of the rain?!

husband: *looks excited* Yeah!  We could do that!

me: *eyeroll*  Cool, I’ll make sure to pack some ponchos.  Then what?  We just spend the whole rest of the day in the tent?

husband: *smiles*

me: Ugh!

husband: Ok, ok… yeah it’ll be a bummer, but we’ll make it work out ok.  We can find other stuff to do.

me: Ugh, you’re too optimistic.  How are you not mad?

husband:  I dunno, I figure we can still make it fun our own way.

me: Ahh… we’re still going to the breweries, you’re not bothered by this because you still get your tours and beer and don’t have to do “all the extra crap”.

husband: *smiles*

Thank god the food stops we planned aren’t ruined or I’d really flip out.  At least we still get beer and incredibly unhealthy food.  Maybe this vacation won’t be so bad after all… Maybe.

no love

Me talking to Buddy:

Me – Who do you love?

Buddy – DADDY!!!!

Me – Who loves you best?

Buddy – DAAAADDY!!!!!

Me – *now hoping for a “Mama”*  Who’s the most fun?

Buddy – EMMYYY!  (Remmy)

Me – *slightly annoyed* Who’s your favorite?

Buddy – *smiling, points to himself*

Apparently I get no love around here!