I am usually greeted with a pleasant "Hi. How was your day?" I respond with my usual grunt and "Okay" response and we eat dinner. This evening was different. I don't know if the hormones are kicking or what, but I was greeted by a look from Satan himself. I asked what was wrong and received the typical "She is mad and is not going to tell me why" shoulder shrug and sassy "Nothing."
I knew immediately that I had done something or said something and I had been gone the entire day. After almost 31 years I still have not figured out how I can get into trouble when I have not been home all day. Do women get bored throughout the day and think "I am going to find at least one thing to get mad at him about?" I don't get it.
I just want to come home to a clean house, dinner on the table, a well dressed child that greets me by saying "Hello Father. I trust that your day was as joyous as mine. Shall we play automobiles and building blocks?", a kiss on the cheek from my wife and clean sheets on my bed. Is that too much to ask for? I get tornado alley, nothing to eat, a half naked child that runs around wildly, a death stare and sheets in the drier.
Disclaimer: This blog is for entertainment. Some of the above statements may only be partially true and most likely, highly exaggerated.
Disclaimer for my wife: This blog is for entertainment. I love you. Ignore the previous paragraph. You are the best wife and mommy in the universe. Kisses.
After getting settled in and playing with Charlie for a while the wrath began. "I hope that you have clean work clothes because I am not doing your laundry." pierces my ears like a lightning bolt through my brain. I braced myself for impact. I was about to find out what I had done to light the fuse of the unstable compound that we call a "pregnant woman". It was about time. The suspense was killing me.
(I am so dead after Jamie reads this)
I listened to the list of "done wrongs" and acknowledged what she was saying. She was upset because she can not lift heavy stuff and has asked me to take the laundry up and down the stairs for her. I have obviously neglected to perform the task or you would not be reading this right now.
Jamie does have a good reason to be upset. She asks me to take the laundry down when I am standing right next to the basket and I walk right past it even though I clearly heard her and acknowledged the request. I have a short term memory of about 2 seconds. I do not know what is wrong with my brain. Do I use too many brain cells at work that I do not have any room left to store any more information?
I honestly do not mind helping around the house and doing chores. My brain just does not function in a fashion to remind me of what needs to be completed on the "Honey-do list". Maybe I should make a chore chart with little gold stars?
The clean sheets really were in the drier and Jamie asked me to bring them up before bed. As usual, I said "Okay." I walked to the kitchen to get a drink and by the time that I returned to the living room I had forgotten about the sheets. I am not kidding. If it does not involve numbers I do not remember it. I know all of my debit card numbers, my social security number, many phone numbers, car values, my entire budget and due dates, multiple logins and passwords, but I can not remember to grab the laundry when I walk past it.
I was promptly reminded about the sheets. I brought them up and we dressed the bed. I tucked Charlie and Jamie in and I went back down stairs. I grabbed the remaining laundry and took it to the basement. I even started a load. I then took Jamie's car to get gas for her. Hopefully that makes up for something.
My run for Father of the Year is going good. Husband of the Year, not so much. I tried the line "Pregnancy is not a disability." That went over great. You should see how crooked my jaw is now.
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