Tag Archives: good

My effing Husband.

Instant Disclaimer: I love my husband. I married him, after all. But as we all know even those we love get on our last nerve sometimes & we have to vent in order to maintenance our sanity. That’s all this is, a post venting about being highly annoyed; not plotting murder (that’s a different post entirely).

So, there’s a football game on today….Broncos vs. Patriots. My husband (henceforth known as “C” because I get tired of seeing husband everywhere because in my mind I hear “husthband” for some reason) decided quite some time ago that “his” team was the Broncos & of course his MVP is the man of the hour, Peyton Manning (I actually seriously honest-to-God believe he would instantly go gay if Peyton showed up & said “Hey good look-in!”. I do.). A quick background on our relationship: we’ve known each other since I was 16, he 15….we met while working at Hardee’s & pretty much dated on/off since, until we married in 2010….that totals 15 years now. He’s always been a “guys” guy & liked football, etc but he’s never been an avid game watcher or obsessive about it. Until the past year or two. I understand people change throughout their lives so I guess his fairly recent deep interest is due to that. It’s fine, a lot of guys are really in to football; I don’t mind giving up the tv because it gives me an excuse to read. None of that bothers me.

What does bother me is that watching football turns C into a f-r-e-a-k! I’ve seen the commercials/shows/etc where people at home get into the game & cheer, or boo, or clap, or complain, or what the hell ever. C, however, takes it to a whoooole new level. He screams. I mean screams. As though he were about to fight a mortal enemy over control of the universe. You can hear him-no exaggeration-in the damn driveway. He screams when it’s good & screams when it’s bad. It penetrates through closed bedroom doors, so that if other people are trying to do something else, they are still subjected to the screaming.
The clapping. I’m not talking regular appreciative clapping, like one night hear at a high school band concert. I’m talking two cymbals crashing kind of clapping! C has big hands, therefore he can create a big sound with them. It is very startling & makes me jump (I guess I’m an anxious person, though one would think I’d be the exact opposite by now because I should be used to it) every time, which annoys the piss out of me & just increases my overall anxiety.
The….seizures? I’m not sure what else to call them. “Fits” maybe. There are both good & bad fits however more bad usually. Fits are when he throws himself back (or forward), stomps/kicks his feet (yes like a 1 year old & yes I am serious), throws his arms out & about/waves them around…things like that. Occasionally he’ll spin around or something of that nature.

It’s loud. It’s startling. It’s annoying (for so many reasons). I don’t begrudge him enjoying the football game but damn, he acts like he’s there & required to be heard over thousands of people. Do other husbands react like this to football? Maybe I’m missing some super secret football code since I don’t watch it?

Who knows. Meanwhile, pass me those ear plugs & Xanax.

My cat is a trouble making whore.

I’m finally feeling much better–the incessant migraine is gone–and wanted to clean up the house before hubs gets home from working out of town.  (This is my usual agenda by the way; keep the house safe from being in a condemned state while he’s gone & then do a thorough cleaning the day he’s due home so that I look like the best wife ever.  And it totally works.).  I’ve been testing different crap I’ve found on Pinterest & some of these are actually turning out to work!!  One of which is floor cleaner.  I figured the pin was full of shit when it said “leaves your house smelling ahhmazing” (like what they did there with the “ahh”?) but I had all the stuff so I tried it anyway.  It does leave your house smelling “ahhmazing”: fresh, clean, no streaks, no chemical-y smell.  So I decided to make it my go-to floor cleaner except like a dumbass I didn’t write the recipe down in real life.  When I went to jot it down off of Pinterest it seems they’ve decided to disappear a few pins from my board & of course that was one of them.  I tried to access my sister’s-whom I’d originally gotten it from-and I was denied with a simple “Sorry”.  Apparently Pinterest has decided to fix something that wasn’t broken & now everything is all glitchy & retarded. 

Luckily I’m like a Google Jedi or something & I was able to find it via my super secret methods, which I would tell you if they weren’t super secret.  I’m sorry…please don’t stop reading my blog just because I can’t share them with you.  With my fiery anger at Pinterest subsiding I swept (which I will admit I almost didn’t do because I did it yesterday but then my ocd compelled me to) & made the floor cleaner (with the help of my sweet boy) & began mopping.  Everything was going as well as it possibly can when you’re breaking your back mopping when I noticed my cat on the table watching me.

This is the cat. She is not as innocent as she looks.

No big deal, I keep mopping.  The next time I see her she has moved closer to a cup of water sitting there & I thought “I should probably move that; she’s going to knock it over with her big fat ass” but like an idiot I didn’t.  Then she starts batting at it…or dipping her paw in…either way she was messing with it & I told her to go on.  At this point I’m right beside the table but trying to finish mopping; I swear to God she looks directly into my eyes & then proceeds to swat the cup over, spilling water all over the floor.  Then I hollered “What the hell Baby Kitty?!”, smacked her on the top of the head, and she ran off. 

Granted, it was only water.  And I already had the mop out (yay for convenience).  What gets me is that she deliberately did it out of spite for no discernible reason.  All *I* did was say “Go on”.  She’s an evil devil cat I guess.  She also enjoys stabbing you randomly if you reach for something near her.  She’s docile & sweet but yet…dark.  We should’ve named her SweetTart or some shit.

Plotting her next evil attack.