The second installment of How to Be a Moron will now become the third installment, in order to make room for this Birthday Edition. Unless of course other editions spring up before I have time to post it, which could bump it back until we have 96 How to Be a Moron’s before next Tuesday, before i ever even get to that other one. Which is HIGHLY likely, now that I think about how this week is going.
I’ve said in previous posts somewhere that Mike is hit or miss when it comes to birthdays and special occasions. As in, BIG HIT, or OH, I FORGOT. Again. And wouldn’t it be great if i adapted to this and just didn’t care? But I do.
Last year I turned 30. He forgot. I got very bent out of shape about it (just a card and a hug, really. that’s all I needed), and told him he was off the hook if he’d make it up to me. Just do something and call it ‘my birthday thing’ even if it’s 6 months late, and we’re cool. But despite a few of those conversations… he didn’t. I SO wish i didn’t care. But I do.
I mentioned our 10th anniversary sucked. and I’m ok with that. But today it was my 31st. And he forgot. And then tried to pretend he didn’t (which…? makes! it! WORSE!) So, I spent today with the exterminator, the carpet cleaners, and listening to Mike’s venting as he was particularly call-ish today, and called a dozen times throughout the day to gripe. About other people. Not me. That came later. Also, he thought it would be good if we all went grocery shopping together. I don’t know WHY he thought that, but he did. So I meet him at the store and, seeing that he’s there, take the 3 boys in. THE THREE BOYS. IN. TO. THE. STORE.
And Mike doesn’t come in. So we start without him, w hich involves Ethan-6yr repeatedly smashing into me with Caden-2yr’s stroller. I had brought it in since there were supposed to be TWO adults. Seth-10mth is in the cart, and I have been stroller-rammed 4 times before Mike gets into the store. He’d been in the car on the phone. Un. Clench. Jaw. now.
We get through it, but it isn’t pretty. Ethan-6yr decides today is a great day to pop a chocolate covered almond into his mouth from the plastic bin thing. He thinks I don’t see him, but I do. So then we have a THAT"S STEALING lesson, complete with crying apology from him to store manager. Gah.
I leave with no kids, but the groceries, so I’m obligated to go home. SInce some will melt or go bad if i don’t, but that’s the only reason I do. Mike has the three boys and I surprisingly make it home before he does. I see my chance. I unload the groceries and leave.
Mike pulls me over. What? You think your husband can’t PULL you OVER? Oh, but he can. A spat is had, roadside, for good white trash measure. (I looked bad enough to be on COPS, too.) He says I have to come home because there will be birthday deliveries. Uh huh. Translation: No, you may not go off for a few hours of what might actually be nice You Time, you must come home where there will be stress and chaos and wait for my Guilt Delivery to arrive and then thank me. Um, NO. Good for you for ‘remembering’ at 5 o clock, but I’ve already had it! Whine. Snivvle. Gah. Y’all, my kid STOLE today, too. What is up with THAT?
What took him so long to get home, allowing me the pleasure of putting all the groceries away by myself…? Arranging THAT. The deliveries. At 5. With 3 boys.
And here is where you can be like me and Be a Moron. Because isn’t it true that you shouldn’t really care about your own birthday past the age of like, 22? if you still care this much, aren’t you a whiney moron? It seems like it to me, anyway, and I probably have more experience with this phenomenon than most of you – I hope.
And another thing? Shouldn’t I just drop hints and put it on his calendar if I really cared…?
I won’t. I refuse.
See how moronic of me??
The man juggles an amazing number of appointments for business and they all get taken care of. Why, then, do the personal ones always seem to fall through the cracks? Clearly, he CAN manage the stuff that’s important.
I wish I didn’t care. I do, though.
I pulled into the driveway at the same time as the "Bring me ALL your flowers because I’m in DEEP trouble" delivery arrived.
That’s a new FTD special, called "The Kelsey" if you’re interested. It’s very expensive, and will likely never, ever be appreciated because it was never supposed to be about ‘stuff’ in the first place.
I’m taking the dog for a loooong walk now.