Maybe it’s just because it’s Monday.
I’m fuming. I shouldn’t release all this on a WordPress blog. This isn’t the place for it. I should call my favorite girl and vent like there’s no tomorrow. But instead, I’m going to write all of this:
Me: Come downstairs, it’s time to eat.
Baby comes downstairs obediently. Husband follows.Husband: What? You didn’t make me anything?!
Me (Incredulous): I didn’t know you wanted anything!
Husband: You never make me anything to –
Me: Are you serious?! I didn’t know you wanted anything! Every time I do make something for you, you say you’re not hungry or you don’t feel like eating or you’ll eat later. How am I supposed to know you are hungry?! I thought you were sleeping!
Me: I swear, honey! I don’t believe this.
Me: Are you serious right now? Are you just messing with me?
Husband: No, I’m not messing with you, I’m serious. Every time – just forget it.
Me: Oh my God.
Sit back down at table. Stare at unappetizing food on plate. Put fork back down and leave the table, leave the kitchen, leave the house. Puff on cigarette in anger.
I don’t believe it. That was ridiculous. How many times have I made food just to have him say thanks, but no thanks to it? How many times have I prepared him food when he came home from work after fighting the kids off all night? I even asked him today to go get us meat so we could eat dinner together tonight, and he didn’t buy anything.
Besides, he was upstairs watching The Walking Dead with the door locked. Then he comes down after an hour and a half and expects there to be food on the table for him, hot and ready?! I don’t get this man. I seriously don’t.
Okay, so that was a 2 cigarettes ago – now what? What do I do now? Go back in with my tail between my legs, suck it up because marriage is all about compromise and forgiveness? Where do all these ridiculous expectations come from? I can’t read your mind. You never commit to meals with us, so how am I supposed to know you cared so much to join us?
I feel hurt, all over a stupid meal…and it’s only Monday.