Sunday, April 30, 2006

Many husbands??

Well, things have quieted down considerably, and as Bill and I were watching TV this evening, a promotion came on for a news show story about a woman with two husbands.

I barely noted it, but I thought Bill was going to throw up. "That's just wrong" he stormed. "That's disgusting and gross!"

I glanced over at him and smiled and asked, "Do you think it's grosser than polygamy?"

"Well, yes, of course. Don't you?"

And I said, "no, not particularly. I think they both sound like masochistic lifestyles."

And I sat there and watched the end of Law and Order, Criminal Intent, thinking my husband thinks it's grosser for women to have a lot of sex with two husbands than the other way around.
And every once in awhile, a chuckle escaped.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006


I should explain my marriage a little.

Let me share a story which I think explains it. I was watching The View one day and they were all discussing "who would you marry if you had to marry a woman?" And I gave it some thought and thought, "I would marry Martha Stewart because she is a good housewife."

I thought about it some more and realized I did marry Martha Stewart. My husband is a male Martha Stewart. But a more nagging controlling Martha Stewart.

I must say in all honesty that he didn't do so well in the marriage sweepstakes either. I thought I was getting a younger, kinder, better-looking, more wonderful Gregory Peck, he thought he was getting a sweeter, whatever is better, homecoming queen, girl next door, who would worship at his feet forever. What he got was a female Joey Buttafooco. A slobbier one, too.

So that should explain a lot. I hope. I'm going to try to post a picture of my prom queen personna. Be no more mislead by that than by the chubby smiling Molly Mormon grandma personna.

new stove

Well, Bill has had his heart set on a gas stove, so I let him get a gas stove. To be fair, I could go with one because I bottle a lot and the burners on my electric stove have to be replaced a lot. It's paregoric (sometime I'll tell that story).

Anyway, yesterday, they put in the stove and Bill was really excited. I was blogging and e-mailing and reading and doing other stuff. He was flitting around the stove and the plumber guy who was putting in the gas outlet.

He called me in and discussed the electrical hookup, trying to decide whether we should hire an electrician to replace the 220 hookup in the back or just plug it into the outlet on the counter beside the stove.

I said I didn't want to wait that long and it was okay to plug it in. Then I went on to other things and he went to work.

But when I came out of the bathroom, there he was again, at home fussing over the stove. I said, "what are you doing?" And he held up a white extension cord and said he wanted to put it in a white cord to make it look nicer "for me." And I said, "no, I don't want an extension cord, I don't feel good about that."

And he got upset and said, "it looks better."

And I said, "I don't feel good about it."

And he said, "The plumber said it's fine."

And I thought, he's a plumber, not an electrician.

And I said, "No, I don't want it, use that other cord."

And he got mad and stomped out.

And we got in a big fight and other things came into the fight and I want to move out and have my own house, one bedroom with a front porch and a tree.

I slept for the last 24 hours, retreating into a tranquilized haze in order not to fight anymore. He, well, I don't know what he did.

And the poor lonely gas stove has not been used because we are both too stubborn to use it. We are eating cold food, or microwaving. It's possible we'll never use it. Maybe use it to hold plants or something.

Monday, April 24, 2006

Well, I was up all night fighting with people on another blog. And this morning after I'd written them what is hopefully an abject apology, I was thinking about this guy in our elder's quorum presidency. He told about going to a guy (we'll call him Bob) and saying "Bob, I need to apologize for some terrible things I said about you."

Bob: "what did you say?"

guy: "I don't want to tell you. Can you forgive me?"

Bob: "what did you say?

guy: "well, I said you were a dirty rotten no good jerk. I'm sorry and I hope you'll forgive me."

I don't know, that always makes me smile, "I don't want to tell you. Can't you just forgive me without any further unpleasantness?"

So I was tired and trying to bring up my blood sugar as I was reading the paper and Bill was doing the checkbook (I love, love that he's doing the bills, all I have to do is spend the money) and he said, "what is this check?"

It's 7:30 am. It's still the middle fo the night to me. But I look blearily at the checkbook and find a check Princess Buttgold wrote for me Saturday when I was having a headache, to the Young Womens for $20. I said, "It's the Young Women, for $20."

He said, "what's it for" at the same time I said, "it's for a donation."

And he didn't hear me (he's hard of hearing and I mumble softly), "I said, what's it for, is it a donation?"

And I said, "no, Bill, I just felt like giving them $20 for no reason other than that I wanted to."

And he got mad because I was sarcastic, but I was too tired to fight, so I went back to bed.

Then I got up to go say prayers with him because I wasn't mad, just mind fogged, and he was in the bathroom and I said, "oh, I need you to give me my shot (long story)" and he looked at me and laughed and said, "I'll be glad to."

And I thought the better of it, and said, "oh, forget it" and started to run out of the bathroom and he got an evil look and said, "no, I would love to give you a shot right about now."

And I said, "no way, we'll do this another day."

And he sort of chased me around the bathroom, then promised not to hurt me and we were both laughing and he didn't hurt me, even though I probably would have hurt him.

And we went in and knelt together and he put his arms around me and we said prayers and it was all good.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

I've had a few e-mails from people who've found this so I though I would post something. I don't have anything profound, but maybe you will find my relationship with my husband interesting. I think we're a funny couple.

Bill is a Felix Unger, all tidy and I am a slob, but a big mouth one. He's a great big guy, not fat, very handsome, and I am short and chubby and big mouthed.

We argue constantly. We argue about stupid things. For instance, we got in the biggest fight about the Marvin Hagler/Sugar Ray Leonard fight. I was adamant that Sugar Ray was going to be mauled and humiliated. Bill just kept saying quietly, "sugar Ray is going to win."

I said, "You are out of your mind. Marvin Hagler is younger, his arms are longer, he's heavier and he's had a fight recently."

Pretty soon I got ballistic and we started yelling and questioning the validity of our commitment to each other. I was ready to move out. Finally he stomped out and the fight ended. We didn't speak for two weeks.

Sugar Ray won. Bill, to this day, has never said a word. I would so have been "you suck, I was right." But he was very quiet. I bet he went to bed with a big grin, though.

I was ready to divorce my husband over a prize fight. That is our marriage.

A few weeks ago, Bill asked me, "is your appointment next Tuesday?"

And I said, "yes"

And he said, "I thought it was this Tuesday."

And I said, "No, it's the (and I said the date)."

And he said, "that's next Tuesday"

And I said, "no, it's not, next Tuesday is in two days."

And he said, "no, that's next Tuesday. The week after is Tuesday is Tuesday after next."

We spent about 15 minutes debating the grammatically correct way to express the day, or the day after next. I was yelling by the time we finished. He was laughing. Then our daughter came over and we asked her opinion. She was with her dad.

I think they're both out to lunch.

Consequently, it often seems we are speaking a different language and get mixed up about appointments because he thinks this week's Tuesday means this Tuesday and I think it means next Tuesday because it hasn't come yet.

Another thing I do to play with his head is pretend I don't understand what he's talking about.

Like he will say, "I need to go to a meeting Wednesday night for scouts."

And I will say, "Are you saying you will be home then?"

And he will say, "no, I'm saying I'm going to a meeting then."

And I will say, "but you just said, you'd be at a meeting. So I assumed you'd be home."

And he will get red in the face and say, "that's what I said, I'll be at a meeting."

And I will say, "okay, I'll be home, too, we can talk about the bills."

And he will say, "No, I'll be at scouts."

And I will say, "you just said you'll be home."

And he will yell, "I just said I'll be at the church.

And I will say, "well, why did you tell me you'd be home?"

And he will say, "I didn't say I'd be home! I said I'd be at the church."

And I will say, "you don't have to be mean to me just because you can't be clear."

And he will say, "I was clear!"

And sooner or later I will start laughing and he will laugh too.

Every once in awhile, he does it to me. It's maddening. But I keep doing it because it's so fun to get him going.

This is why he would be bored with another woman.

Saturday, April 01, 2006