I decided the other day, as I lay in bed at deaths doorway peaking around the corner wondering quietly whether to simply step through, I decided to start a new series. I haven’t decided whether it will be a weekly series or just when the mood strikes, but it will definitely be a series. Perhaps when I have one entire years’ worth of entries I will gather them all up and market them as book. Maybe though I will just invite my Dearly Beloved to read the entire years’ worth and ‘splain himself.
Don’t get me wrong, Dearly Beloved remains DB. Most of the time he is quite fine and wonderful, I like him quite fine, truthfully I am quite fond of him. There are those moments though, well those moments when his brain and his mouth do not seem to be working well together. This series is dedicated to those moments, this series is in truth dedicated to:
Stupid Shit My Husband Says
I am lying in bed comforting myself with Criminal Minds, what else in there when you are being visited by the cold from Hell? When the Snot Imps are sitting on your chest, pounding on you for just one more sneeze to test your bladder control, I ask you what else is there. There I am reveling in the brilliance and beauty of Criminal Minds when Dearly Beloved decides to join me.
“Where is the Man Control?”
“Excuse me, I am watching Dr. Reid and Derek Yummy Morgan, you don’t need the remote.”
“I don’t want to watch this.”
“I am watching this and I do.”
“Someday I will find a wife who shows more respect.”
“You mean a submissive dumbass? Good luck with that.”
“You will grow old alone!”
“Perhaps and I am still watching this.”
The next day I reminded him of this conversation when he wanted me to stop at the store. He thought I should let it go, it had after all been an entire twelve hours and well, he was only kidding after all.
I smiled sweetly, I always do when he tries to weasel out of the Stupid Shit he says.
I wonder if all men do this?