I Yelled at Him
I called him a shit head, lazy, pain in the ass. I said he was unbelievable and now was not the time to snuggle. I told him to stop touching me, I kicked him (only a little bit to get him to take his 75 pound leg off of me) and huffed out of the room pissed, grumbling under my breath. And when I say grumbling I don't mean saying things like 'grumble grumble grumble.' It was more in the what the fuck you piece of fucking shit pain in the ass never wake up in the middle of the night I always have to wake up neighborhood.
I have been awake for at least 2 hours every night since coming home from the hospital. That is every night for over 2 weeks. I have prepared 3 and 5 and 7 course meals at least once a night - many times twice - for a tyrant of a customer. He has been awake 2 of those nights. Once because of the fucking mouse. Once because I yelled downstairs and asked him to come upstairs because I thought I might go insane.
I love this man. He is a good dad and a good lover. We're getting along really well lately - who knew cancer could do that. He got up and fed the kids so I could sleep in yesterday (after I of course work up and said his name over and over about 12 times to wake him up). He does lots of great things and lots of fucking annoying things too.
For example, he sleeps through everything and its really pissing me off. Okay when I say he sleeps through everything I don't actually mean everything. He sleeps through the children waking up. He doesn't sleep through the club next door making noise. When he hears that he starts tossing and turning so much that I wake up too.
He did sleep through my yelling. Didn't register a word of it. Or the stomping up the steps. None of it. Nor did it register when I did it the night before. It so didn't register that he asked if I'd been up at all that night (yes that night during which I might have slept for 3 and a half hours). Right now he still doesn't know about it. He is innocently presiding over the Eucharist at the 8am service. I probably should have let him read this before I hit publish.
Just in case you're wondering. It is not rewarding in the slightest even tiny tiniest little bit to yell at a sleeping man. There is no reward. Nothing. Zero. Which in itself is. Well. Annoying.
Oh the joys. The joys. The joys of marital bliss.
posted by Sara at 7:44 AM
5 Comments:
I read parts of this out to Patrick. At the end he said "there was marital bliss in there someplace". I told him he wasn't listening. The marital bliss was expressed in the little things - Like you still getting out of bed anyway. Like you not putting a screaming child in bed next to him. Like you not setting off an airhorn next to his ear. Like you still letting him sleep. Like you not writing "fuckershit" on his face with permanent marker before he went off to innocently celebrate the Eucharist. (The one I yet again didn't pull my lazy pregnant butt out of bed to go join in on.) He sat for a couple of minutes and then said "I wonder how you'd express our marital bliss. Probably with many of the same words." : )
Dawn
If he was not "there" to hear you - did you really yell? e.g., the tree in the forest making a sound.
It's something in the Y chromosome. They don't hear children in the middle of the night. Don't know why or how men don't hear children, they just don't.
Oh Sara, hang in there. You are so lovably real. I am so glad I have met you in person so I can imagine you beyond these posts. Dawn's suggestion of writing nasties with permanent marker before the eucharist is enough to give any priest -- male or female -- nightmares.
I was always the asleep one. Did not even hear the phone nor my husband go out on and return from an ER call. He had to wake me up when the kids cried at night. It made for early sleep thru the night kids - I think. They are all grown up now and seem all right - not psychologically damaged. The sons are great daddies and our daughter a great mom (who never lets her son cry for more than the few minutes it takes to get to him - he is 8 now and seems normal, too) so whatever works. Kids are resilient.
Post a Comment
<< Home