For the last couple of months, my wife’s been anywhere from confrontational to downright bitchy every single fucking day. If it’s about something that I’ve made a serious mistake about, I don’t object to her bringing it up. But even little fucking things is a reason for her to start an argument lately. (And no, she’s not pregnant.)
Example 1: A couple of weeks ago we were to make a Mexican cassarole for a pot luck dinner. A couple of hours before we were to go, she asks me to brown the ground beef. So I do. Then I go an extra step and add the taco seasoning that we’d picked up just for the meal.
She comes into the kitchen and flips out when she sees the seasoning in the beef. “Are you reading the recipe!?”, “Do you know what recipe to use?”, “I just asked you to brown the meat!”, “I didn’t ask you to think, I just asked you to brown the meat!”
She got the recipe off the Internet and took over, mumbling that she hoped she could make something of what I’d done.
The cassarole turned out perfect, but guess what!? The recipe called for adding the taco seasoning as per the seasoning package exactly as I’d done!
Example 2 (why I’m writing tonight and also sleeping downstairs): We’re planning our daughter’s first birthday party, writing up the invites. Since we’re having a petting zoo bring some animals, we’re holding it at friends’ house because they have a big yard. So she asked me to write up instructions out to their house for our church friends. No problem. I use Mapquest.com to make sure that I have all the roads named right, as well as their name changes.
Later tonight, we had to run out to a drug store to get some anti-itch cream. On the way back, she asks if I’d printed out the directions. “No,” I said. “But they’re the first file in the history list in Word.”
“Did you set them up 4-up per page?” she asked.
“No, I just typed up a step-by-step list.” Before I could continue to say that I wanted her to proof it, she starts ranting.
“How are we supposed to get 8.5 x 11 sheets into the little invitation envelopes?”, “What do you think, that we were just going to hand out 8.5 x 11 sheets?”, “Why didn’t you ask what format I wanted them in?”, “Why don’t you think ahead!?”
So you see my dilemma: do I think ahead too much and risk overdoing, or just as much as she asks and not do enough to be of use to her?
Oh, one more example: a couple of nights ago I forgot to lock the car. Someone in the middle of the night then came through and rooted through all the unlocked cars they could find. Nothing missing, amazingly. OK, I got bitched out about that. Then tonight when we run to the drug store, I reach the car first and find it unlocked. I look at her and say, “Oops, it’s unlocked,” knowing that she had had the car keys last. “You have the keys,” she replied. “Yes, but I got them out of your pocked because you unlocked the house this evening while I carried the baby upstairs to her crib.” Silence. No apology. So apparently it’s OK for her to leave the car unlocked at night, but not me.
sigh Thanks for reading my rant.