Would it kill my husband to contribute, just once?

It rained all weekend, so my husband and I stayed home and watched movies on the couch.

It was nice, relaxing together. But sometimes I want more.

So I say “Let’s do something.”
And do you know what he says?
He says “What would you like to do?”

So typical. He expects me to do all the work.

I’m not saying a word until he comes up with one idea. Just one.
Would it kill him to contribute one idea?
Why is it my job to come up with everything?

Sure, there are plenty of things I would like to do.
I concentrate hard on beaming these things to his brain.

It works like this. I make a mean squinty face and then I think very hard.

I think things like “Let’s go get coffee! Let’s go shopping! Let’s go to a bookstore!”
I’m staring right at him when I think these things, so there’s no possible way he could miss them.

Of course, my husband’s brain is as hard as a rock, so none of my silent ideas can get in.
He can be such a moron. How much easier can I make it?

So I give him some help.
What do you want to do, he’s asking.
So I say “I don’t know. Something.”

I’m thinking, would it kill him to just do something with me today?

He suggests going for a walk. A walk! It’s raining!
This is perfect.
He has suggested literally the dumbest thing in the world.
Now he thinks he’s off the hook, because he suggested something and I turned it down.

Maybe I should suggest that we put down saran wrap and shit on each other.
Then I could blame him when he doesn’t want to do it.

I make sure to ridicule his idea for a good five minutes, so he will be inspired to come up with more ideas.
And I also call him on his bullshit plan of making up poor suggestions so that I will have to decide what we do.

I refuse to decide! Why can’t he be a man?

Where is my partner here? I’m sitting here pouting on the couch and he’s folding laundry, putting away dishes, cleaning the kitchen counters, anything to avoid doing something.
Would it kill him to just contribute a little?  I’m right here!

I’m going to my yoga class at 5 and he’d better have come up with something great to do when I get home.

And this house had better be clean!
I can’t do everything around here!

It is hot in this house.

It’s so hot isn’t it?

You’re not hot?

I’m hot.

It’s hot in this house.

The niçoise salad you made was very nice.
The tuna was overcooked, the egg was undercooked and you left out the caperberries but thank you.
No, honey, I’m too tired to help you with the dishes.

It’s hot in here!

Do you have gas? Man, I had gas today. And last night and yesterday and this morning.

Please will you open the door? It’s open already?
IT’S SO HOT IN HERE.

How come the remote doesn’t work anymore?
Here, see if you can make this work.
Oh look at that, it works when you do it.
I must be too tired to work a remote.
It’s hot in here, right?

Kat Von D is such a sleaze! Did you see that she’s dating Jesse James?
What happened to Nikki Six, I thought she was dating Nikki Six?

Who the F is Heidi Montag?

Would you get off your ass already and turn on the air conditioning?
I’ve asked you 8 times already.

Things on TV that made me cry this week

Boston Med

Oprah Winfrey’s interview with the “Eat Pray Love” lady

That story on the news about the serial killer stabbing only black men, wounding 15 and killing 5

The story on the news about the ignorant security guards who tackled a deaf guy at Forever 21

That thing on ABC News where they have an actor pretend to put drugs in a girl’s drink, to see how people in the bar will react

That Meineke commercial where George Forman says “I’m not going to pay a lot for this muffler”

The Activia yogurt commercial with Jamie Lee Curtis

The clothes on Project Runway, worn by the designers

Promo for “Real Housewives of DC”

Snooki

Full of shit!

I have not pooped in 10 days.

It is probably more like 4 or 5 but it definitely feels like 10 days.

I am completely backed up. I have a swollen and distended Africa belly.

People keep asking me when I am due, and I don’t know a nice way to tell a stranger that I am not pregnant, I’m just carrying 12 pounds of poop.
So I just tell them “September”.
Then they usually smile at me real sweetly and I have to go along with it and smile and nod,
and the whole time I’m thinking I would give anything to take a dump right now.
I would take a dump right here in front of this person.

It would be great.

I’m in pain. This hurts. I am so uncomfortable.
I am literally a miserable sack of shit.

I have taken Miralax for 4 days. Last night I made a two inch pathetic excuse for a poop.

Remember from school, those long thin pencil erasers that come in the plastic pen? You push it out one click at a time?
Yeah I made two inches of that.

I can’t wait for the whole snake to uncoil and slither away. It feels like I’m carrying that boa constrictor I saw in Puerto Vallarta.
Meanwhile 4 days of laxative makes me poop out an earthworm.

I would settle for something the size of a fig or a walnut right now. A gherkin would be stupendous.

You know what would make me feel better?  If I just knew why.  What is going on in there?

Like when the traffic is piled up on the freeway forever, and then you finally get to the front and there’s a big accident and fire trucks and an ambulance,
and then you feel better because you know you weren’t just sitting there for no reason.
Then there are those times when you get through the traffic and there’s nothing. Just empty highway.

My husband says there is a Lego or a Barbie leg stuck up there from childhood that has fused with my body and turned into solid bone.
I think that’s a little dramatic.

I’m getting advice from everywhere. Nate says drink coffee. Nate’s grandma says eat peanuts.
My stepdad says to eat right, exercise and stay hydrated. Where do people come up with this crap?

My mom says use a suppository or an enema. Why is she the always the first person to recommend sticking something up there?
She always has this little smile when she says it, too. What is that.
Everyone else tells me to go from the front and she wants to attack from the back.

Nate says I should swallow a Smurf with a pushbroom.
I wish he knew how not funny he is.

Wait! I think I feel something.
No. Just gas. Gas the US Army should weaponize.
Even the dog and cat are fleeing for their safety.

Here’s a tip if you work in healthcare – don’t ever fart in your labcoat.
Find some reason to take it off or just move it aside. Farts never come out of there.

I’m sorry to be so gross but you have to remember my husband writes this, not me.
In fact I have no idea what he’s writing. In fact I’m still asleep making killer farts.

Today I’m going to try the coffee and the enema –
not a coffee enema, which is what I may try tomorrow if all else fails.

Wish me luck!

Quote of the week

You can have the leftover chopped liver.

You should eat some bread with it, it’s better that way.

There’s bread in my purse.

Moving your belongings to a slightly different location restores harmony to the Universe.

This morning I noticed you left your deodorant near the edge of the bathroom counter.
I moved it to the back of the counter, next to the faucet, against the little backsplash. I feel much better now.

I also took a moment to straighten your contact lens case, which was not parallel to the counter edge.
I pushed the bottle of lens solution up next to the lens case so they are like a little pair.
Now all is right with the world.

In the bedroom, I noticed that your cell phone was siting at a slight diagonal angle.
I put it on top of your wallet, and put both items at perfect right angles to the edges of your dresser.
And somewhere in Haiti, a mother was reunited with her lost baby boy.

I placed your asthma inhaler gently inside your nightstand drawer, instead of leaving it near your wallet and keys.
As I did so, a child soldier in Africa laid down his rifle.

I fixed a hole in the ozone layer by placing your bag on the floor next to the kitchen chair instead of on the seat.

All it takes is a minute.

I took the small stack of mail on your desk and propped it upright next to your hard drive.
Oprah Winfrey opened another school for girls.

The dish soap was next to the faucet, but I moved it to the under-sink cabinet.
Somewhere in the country, tea-party protesters tore the Hitler mustaches off of their Obama posters and drew little pink hearts instead.

I arranged your shoes so that they are all parallel to each other,
and suddenly it’s as if those Nikes weren’t made by children in a Vietnam sweatshop.
In fact I’m sure Nike set all those children free this morning.

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad wept tears of joy as he embraced Binyamin Netanyahu like a brother,
as I moved your polo shirt two inches to the left.

The Westboro Baptist Church was sucked into a sinkhole today as I smoothed a wrinkle I found in your pillowcase.

While you were in the shower I straightened your eyeglasses to be parallel with the edge of the counter,
and I folded the earpieces so that they were even with each other.
For this, the entire Midwest may be grateful there’s no earthquake today.

You’ll be happy to know that I also moved a People magazine from the magazine rack to the trash can,
successfully rescuing many of our brain cells from irreparable damage and possible loss.

You’re welcome.

Phrases my husband does not understand

Translated into man:

Presentable
This means no flaws whatsoever.

“It’s in my red purse.”
The reddest purse I have.
If I have a brown one, a black one and a blue one, the “red” purse is the brown one.

The cute nail polish
The cute nail polish. The one I just bought. You know.

“I have cramps”
Make me tea and please be quiet until further notice.

Let’s watch TV
Let’s watch HGTV, TLC, A&E or the Food Network.

Someplace nice.
$20 to $40 an entree.
Can not be a place we have ever been to.

Empty the dishwasher
This means: also put any dirty dishes into the empty dishwasher.
And clean the sink and countertops.

When you are done playing the Wii
Right this second and not a second later.

“That’s funny, sweetheart”
We can stop talking about that now.

Based on the novel by Nicholas Sparks
You are taking me to see a movie.

“I’m almost ready”
I am buck naked putting on makeup.
You should be at the door, dressed, with keys in hand.
If you have some time to kill you can empty the cat box.

Things that are not funny

After some consideration I feel I should point out that many of the things you think are funny, actually aren’t funny.
This is the source of much contention with my husband and I feel it’s necessary for me to put this out there once and for all.

The following things are NOT funny:

Farting in the car

Airplane!

ANYTHING British – books, radio shows, movies or TV

It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia

Mel Brooks Movies that are not Blazing Saddles

Blazing Saddles

Jersey Shore on MTV

Any late night talk show host under 65

Saturday Night Live, especially the years with Dana Carvey, Mike Meyers, Phil Hartman etc.

MTV’s The State

Kids in the Hall

Idiocracy and any joke or line related to that movie

Arrested Development

Your old CD of the Jerky Boys

That video you saw on YouTube

That thing your friend posted on Facebook

That movie or TV show you like so much more than the dinner I made

Best line of the day

Yes, I do need to be texting in the bathroom. You can wait.

Do I look like a tracking device for your stuff?

How should I know where whatever-it-is-you-lost is? It’s wherever you put it.

And if it’s not where you put it, that’s your fault.

No I will not help you look for it!  How is this suddenly my responsibility?

It is not my fault you left your phone/keys/ipod/asthma inhaler out in the open where it doesn’t belong. You can’t just leave stuff all over the place.
Did you look in the nearest drawer to where you left it?

Well, check again, how am I supposed to know where it is? It’s your stuff.

What I don’t understand is why you always blame me for moving your stuff. I never touch your stuff!

What’s that? Oh, that’s a receipt I found. I put it in that little box you keep your loose change in.
That doesn’t count, that’s not your stuff, it’s a piece of paper!

And by the way I put all your cuff links in a Ziploc bag in the drawer of your nightstand.
Whatever you’re looking for now, I didn’t move it.

You’re not saying I moved it? Bullshit. You always accuse me of moving your stuff.

Fine. Maybe I was cleaning and I put it somewhere. But it is not my responsibility to remember where I put it!

No. I will not be held accountable for this. It’s your responsibility to put things where they go.

I clean this whole apartment from top to bottom. I cook dinner for you.
I remind you to send your friends birthday cards. Sometimes I send them myself and sign your name!
You don’t want to take responsibility for anything. It is not my job to help you look for your inhaler!

Well…  breathe harder then.

I made this dinner for you and you didn’t even say thank you.
You accuse me of stealing your inhaler? Honestly, honey. What do I look like.

What’s that? You found it inside a sock in your sock drawer?
How should I know how it got there? Stop blaming me for your faults.
You can’t keep track of shit, so don’t expect me to do it for you.

Honestly I get so mad with you when you do this.
You know I was hoping to have a romantic evening with you tonight, but now you can forget it.

Can you breathe now? Ok, good. You’re okay. Breathe.
Please don’t accuse me of moving your things.

And don’t leave your things out where someone might move them.