Everybody’s a Comedian, Eh?
By Glinda
I don’t know if you’ve garnered enough information about me to know that I’m a bit, er, picky. I know, you are aghast with shock. Whenever we plan a day trip somewhere, I am the type of person who must come prepared with every single thing we might need. Most of the time the Scarecrow’s needs are taken into account as well, but sometimes I am in a hurry and would like to spend at least a bit more time at our destination than I have packing.
We were walking to the entrance of our travel objective, and my husband was complaining that I had forgotten to pack his hat.
There is something completely wrong with that above sentence, and I’m guessing you will be able to spot it a mile away. Why is that men, who have important jobs and assure us that they do important things all day at work, turn into whining incompetents the second they walk through the door of the house? Or maybe it’s just mine.
Anyhoo, after his complaint about my abject failure to anticipate his every need, I exasperatedly replied, “Why am I responsible for every single thing? Why can’t you be responsible for your own stuff sometimes?”
To which some random man standing a few feet away called out to me, “Because you’re the mom, that’s why!”
My friends, even though I know nothing of martial arts, I had a very strong desire to perform some sort of fluid, graceful movement that would set this impudent person’s knees a-buckling and his body to the pavement, with nary a hair on my head displaced.
But propriety reigned, and I instead laughed. A very fake laugh, it must be noted.
I hope he could tell.
October 2nd, 2008 at 11:51 am
Grrrr. Hasn’t anyone heard of us “good enough” parents? Good God! I think I see karate lessons in my future!
Kelly
I’ll tell you later Betty
October 2nd, 2008 at 3:59 pm
You need a raise. And put an elastic band under his hat so it stays on. While you’re at it, put a string between his gloves and pin them to his coat.
October 3rd, 2008 at 6:53 pm
I feel that way sometimes, too. My husband was up and doing the dishes before I got out of bed this morning, and expected praise for his efforts. Nevermind that I did the dishes before he got up (and made breakfast and packed him a lunch) the other four days this week without very little comment from him.
October 7th, 2008 at 2:16 am
perfect retort ” i’m NOT his mom!”