I wrote the post translating the things I say into what I really mean.. Well, I have known my husband for half of our lives and I think by now I am pretty good and decoding the things he says.
When he says: "I am going to organize the garage."
He means: "I am going to be in the garage for the next two hours to escape the whining. The kids are starting to whine too. I will move some shit around to make my story believable."
Okay, he wouldn't say "shit". I added that in.
When he says: "Ummmmm.... sure......"
He Means: "I really don't want to do what you just asked me to do, but I understand that it wasn't really a question."
When he says: "The Gators are playing tonight."
He Means: "The TV is mine. Don't even think about turning on that Intervention Hoarders depressing psychology shit tonight."
Again, the "shit" is added for emphasis.
When he says: "So, are you driving home (after our date) tonight or do you want me to?"
He Means: "Will you drive home? I would like to have a beer or five."
When he says: "I'll drive home if you make it worth my while later...."
He means: I'm not going to elaborate on this one. You'll have to figure it out yourselves. It's not that kind on blog. Okay fine, it kind of is, but I do have some boundaries.
When he says: "Did you get a chance to (insert mundane yet necessary chore here)."
He means: "It's not going to do its self if you keep putting it off. And also it's time to stop saying you have ADD."
When he says: "I appreciate all you do."
He means: "I am the greatest husband ever!" Okay, I added that one too, but I mean it!
In conclusion, I believe that the seven year itch is a myth. We will be married eight years in July and I would say things get more comfortable. I guess the itch would happen if you find comfort boring, which we don't. We are not very exciting people. I mean, I am wearing my pajamas at 8:30. One of the greatest things about falling into the comfortable routine of mariage is you never have to wonder what the other person is saying, thinking, or feeling. Because you already know.
Tired of Facebook or as we like to call it, Fakebook? Where everyone looks great, their kids are perfect and they are the June Cleavers of the twenty-first century? If so, welcome to Killing June Cleaver where we dispel the myths of the perfect life. Join the shit-storm of our lives. Parental guidance suggested and a glass of wine will help. We leave no age untouched from toddlers to teens to aging parents and workaholic husbands.
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