The fetus diaries


The in-laws are coming and guess who acting like a brat…you guessed it…the mister.  *sigh*

The house needs a good cleaning (when DOESN’T it need a good cleaning?).  The rugrats rooms were a disaster which is the exact way they left them.  Each year before they return home I go through their rooms and give them a good de-junking and a decent cleaning…

I told the mister I wanted to tackle their bathroom as well and get the spare room ready for his parents…much like EVERY OTHER FUCKING YEAR.

The inlaws and the rugrats aren’t due in until WELL after midnight…0h dark thirty.

The mister decides he going to tackle El Syd’s room (well isn’t he brave) and he really just pulls the sheets off the bed and sorts out the clean clothes from the dirty ones.  He then does the same for Jah’s room and we are left with a HUGE pile of dirty yucky kids clothes… JOY!

I tackle the clothes load by load 4 or so thus far.  It’s getting done and all is right with the world…well not really.

The mister THEN decides the bathroom should be cleaned as well as the spare bedroom.  RIGHT.NOW.  Well alrighty mighty mouse go on and clean ’til you can’t clean no mo!  LOL

Mean well back on the ranch (couch) I’m surfing the web checking laundry and slowing cleaning when the mood hits me.  The mister is getting more than a lil testy with me.  I ignore this behavior and continue to work/clean on MY schedule….dee da dee dum da dum…  He’s getting frustrated because he can’t stuff more shit in the front coat closet (five years of jackets and whatnots reside there)…he decides on the spot to clean it out!  Wow I like a fella who can make command decisions.  He’s even more testy as I amble ’round the ranch (couch).  LOL

I decide I can’t take his tittiebabyness any mores so I decide to clean the toilet in OUR bathroom.  I lock the door behind me and proceed to give him the bird (not mature but it makes me feel better).  I then clean that toilet within an inch of its nasty life.  TAKE THAT!!! TAKE THAT!!!!   Of course he now needs in the bathroom and the door is locked. (hmmm didn’t see THAT coming) so I unlock the door and ask him why he’s being so snippy.  He claims he’s not…I say he is…THEN he unloads!  BAM!!  He’s pissed because I haven’t cleaned!

Tittiebabysaywhat?  He’s whining because I haven’t cleaned the bathroom, the spare bedroom, or the kid’s rooms!

Well fuck me!  Didn’t realize I was on a schedule boss!  I’se better stop cleaning this pissy toilet and get right on dat bossman sir!

I asked him when hadn’t I cleaned when his parents were coming?  Didn’t I always clean up the kid’s rooms and whatnot.  Didn’t I always make sure his parents had a clean room, clean sheets, NEW pillows and a clean comforter (which I took to the laundry mat prior to EACH visit to make sure it was spring fucking fresh)prior to their arrival?  Why would this visit be any different?

He pointed I said I would clean the kid’s bathroom and all the other stuff  HE had cleaned.  Well no one told his monkeydoodle ass to clean that shit.  He told me I didn’t even acknowledge he was cleaning?  Huh?  I let him know that I did the SAME shit had just done EVERYFUCKINGYEAR and he didn’t bat an eye when I did it.  Of course this offended him because he is ALWAYS grateful for my hard work and such side eye>.

I went on a rant (not good I know) explaining to him that his parents wouldn’t be HERE for another 6 hrs AND I had always done what needed to be done no matter what and even though shit didn’t get done on HIS schedule it would be done…unlike the trim he promised to paint a year ago and the new holding mechanism for the front door he found in the bottom of the front closet he had just clean out (okay so I left out the part about the shit HE hadn’t done, but you get what I was thinking right?)

He gets full of tittiebabyness and storms out.  I finish cleaning the toilet and silence ensues.  I think I may take myself to dinner tonight and go to the park and read a book.

It’s days like this I miss having a man who actually talks to me.  One that doesn’t turn into a giant fetus because his mommy is bringing her titties to town.  *sigh*

I’m the one with issues right?  Seems I’m not alone, but right now it sure feels like I am.


2 responses »

  1. Meh. We fight every time we are having people over.. I just can’t handle the stress of it. I want everything to be cleaned and ready early and THEN everyone can rest and play. He sees no reason not to wait until the last minute, and is often getting in the shower 15 minutes before guests are due. It makes me C-R-A-Z-Y. You would think after 15 years of marriage we would be tired of this same scene, but we keep playing it.

    (So no, you’re not the one with issues. Or at least not the only one.)


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