Monday, January 12, 2009

Love Letter

Dear Husband,

This morning, when your alarm went off and you snoozed it three times, I didn't say anything.

When I got up a half out later, I tripped over the boot you left in the middle of the floor. Then, I collected your discarded towel from the chair and carried it to the bathroom where I picked up your dirty drawers off the floor and put them in the hamper that is less than two feet away. Then I hung up the towel that you'd left in the sink, put the lid on your deodorant, picked up and threw away the q-tip that missed the trash can and replaced the toilet paper roll.

When I sat down to pee, I discovered the turd you left floating. It was a nice one, but there's no need to save it for me, promise. Then, I let the dogs out since they were doing a potty dance because you'd forgotten to put them out before you left and on my way to the back door I collected the cup, spoon and pudding containers that you'd left in the living room and carried them to the kitchen where I shut the cupboard you'd left open and threw away the empty milk jug you left on the counter.

I went to take a shower, but first I had to replace the soap. Sorry I didn't shave my legs, it just didn't seem worth getting out of the shower to get the shaving cream off the counter since the one in the shower was empty. You'll find the new can in the shower tomorrow, I put it in there when I got out. Then, I dried myself with a damp towel, because you'd used all the towels in the bathroom and got myself ready for work.

I dealt with our surly teenager, but managed to get her out the door with out screaming at her. I drove her to school and then went on to work where I attempted to placate angry creditors, disgruntled customers and nervous employees. I got yelled at by Scary Corporate Lady at least three times for things that had nothing to do with me, but since I answer the phone, the buck stops at my desk. No big deal, it IS why they pay me.

On the way home I paid the water bill, stopped at the bank and then went to the grocery store. Then I picked up our daughter, went to the gym for an hour and dropped by some books to a house bound friend before going to the gas station and then Hallmark at the mall to pick up a sympathy card for your grandmother, which I signed your name too and then dropped at the mail box.

So when I walk in the door tonight, if once again the first words out of your mouth are "Damn, you look like shit", I'm pretty sure the judge will understand why the cops couldn't find your head.

All my love,
Your Wife.

24 little kittens say Meow:

Jane! said...

Aren't you glad WE don't have to leave our best accomplishments floating in the toilet for our spouses to see?
Shit, indeed.

LuckyMe said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReRe said...

i almost wet my pants with laughter from this. Are we married to the same man? Do we live the same life?!
the only other things i would add would be: packed your lunch and pretended not to see you sling your schlong around in the mirror.

LuckyMe said...

Don't know whether to laugh or cry. "it was a nice one" had me rolling.

Girl you need a little R-E-S-P-E-C-T and here it is. I bow to you and your great wit. Actually, you deserve the award for best comments in the blogosphere.

Props, Thystle!

Miss Thystle said...

Ah thanks Lucky! Let's sing now... RESPECT, FIND OUT WHAT IT MEANS TO ME or I'll F-ING SMOTHER YOU WITH YOUR DIRTY SOCKS

ReRe, I'm pretty we *are* married to the same guy. The schlong dance is the proof. I'll be sending him to your house post-haste. No give backs.

Hi, I'm Amy! said...

I'm married to one too. What gives! Seriously! They are a breed of their own.

OHN said...

THEY ARE ALL THE FUCKING SAME. IF I DIDN'T HAVE TO HAVE SEX WITH A GIRL, I WOULD BE TOTALLY GAY.

Miss Thystle said...

You know what there should be? An orphanage for husbands. Only, it'd be more like the pound where they wind up humanely putting them down, because no one will adopt the ones with behavior problems. Which is like, all of them. Or at least most.

sheila said...

Thystle, you make me laugh and laugh and laugh!! I needed this (and the fantastic comments) this morning.

♥georgie♥ said...

LMAO!!!! This was great and just what I needed this afternoon...

PearlsOfSomething said...

You know, I'm usually too busy to notice the husband's flaws. When you add his mess to four kids' and four pets', they really don't seem like much.

Sitting on my ass for a week, however, has really done a number on me. I've had no choice but to sit back and take it all in. I believe I will be giving demerits for the rest of the month!

Bj in Dallas said...

What? No farting or burping?? Or does that just go without saying...

Miss Thystle said...

well, he wasn't home.

blairspage said...

OMG... this SO sounds a lot like my hubby... except the shit floating thing. He doesn't do that! But, EVERYTHING else is pretty much dead-on! WHY???? And, do you know my husband always has the nerve to tell me to quit bitching? I'm like... if you would just help out and pick up after yourself then maybe I would bitch so much. After 4 1/2 years of marriage you would think he would figure this out!

Miss Thystle said...

That's it exactly, Tiff. I'm not asking him to clean up behind me or the kid or the dogs or the other random messes that occur, I just want him to pick up behind himself. And I don't think that's unreasonable. It's just good manners.

Racie Lover said...

I like the orphanage idea. If, after 1 month, there are no takers then the poor guy is put out of his misery. I also howled when I read the part about his missing head.

I know this next bit is going to probably get me ostrisized by the rest of your followers because Paco actually behaves like a Human Being most of the time, but I would like to share part of his late afternoon email I just received from him:

"My left knee is bothering me...I'm going home after work. I'll stop by the store on the way home to get wine and anything else we need. xxooPaco"

I know,I know, we have only been married a year and a half and the wheels might be ready to fall off and I just don't know it yet, but I sort of doubt it. Paco is the Real Deal. Now if anyone would like to rent him I think we can work something out. He even vaccuums.

kwr221 said...

Ya know, I've said before that your descriptions of your husband sound suspiciously like mine.

If it weren't for the fact that my husband was busy driving back from watching a painful Giant's loss last night, and was accompanied by by son, I would have to check his itineraries and make sure he wasn't in your neck of the woods.

And I'm with OHN. Totally.

And really, I swear there's a spy cam in my house, right down to the details about the spoons and the damned pudding cups that are not 2 feet from the trash can.

kwr221 said...

Oh, Racie, in my house, the sore knee would be his excuse to not lift a finger for a week. And he especially wouldn't be making any stops to purchase anything - you know, on account of the debillitating knee injury.

Enjoy!

Miss Thystle said...

Oh Racie, you lucky girl. The paco is a prince amoung men. I'm pretty sure my husband hasn't seen the inside of a grocery store since he was in college. In 1992.

Lorrie Veasey said...

Ladies:
Men can be trained.
Use sex like dog treats.
I can say no more- SHOM might read this.

Scandalous Housewife said...

Don't get mad dahhhling, get even...

Maelstrom said...

I'm going to have a witty response and put you women in your place any minute now.

sheila said...

OK, so I reread this this morning, because Racie's blog idea got me thinking. My Sweet Hubby is actually a pretty good one to have around. He does need direction, and has been known to be a snail. You know -- they leave a trail behind them of discarded items & you can find them by following said trail.

But, we have a Dyson. And SH loves that thing. Loves to vacuum. Carpets, tile floors, the fireplace. I'm telling you, buy one of those & things may change.

Otherwise, after you've dropped him off at the orphanage you can fall in love with this. The purple one does an amazing job on pet hair...

Anonymous said...

At one point I got so fed up, I made a 'job jar' where I wrote down all the things I needed help with around the house and the price of sex at my house was three completed slips from the job jar. Second the bit about training them like dogs.