There comes a time in every person’s life when they begin to live with someone. Or in my case, my entire life, since I’ve never lived alone. Of all the time I’ve had to observe roommates (and don’t forget I have ten siblings), never have I come across one quite like… The Husband.
Me: “I can’t believe how much I’ve swollen! And it’s not even through the first trimester yet, just wait till my milk comes in, holy cow!”
Husband: “Time to make the cookies!”
Me: “…you do know this milk isn’t for you…right?”
Me: *Man, every time I put the cutting block knives in the dishwasher, they end up in the sink…this is so weird… I’m the only one in the kitchen…hmm.*
The next day.
Me: * What the hell?! I put all the knvives in the dishwasher and RAN it LAST NIGHT! HOW did they get in the sink??…Omg…..gnomes…..*
The next day.
Me: * I know they are out to get me, but I will win…I will cleverly bait them with a knife in the dish washer and hide behind the couch till they come out, then I will stab them with this knife! Mauahahh!*
The day after that.
I hid in anticipation, fearing for my life. If gnomes had infested my kitchen…who knows what ELSE lives in there? I gripped my knife. Then suddenly I heard…*thump thump thump*
Me: *OMG! This is it! Here they come!*
Crazed from the stress of defending myself with the butcher knife, adrenaline pounding in my veins, I pounced.
Me: “AHA!!!!! I HAVE YOU NOW YOU WORTHLESS KNIFE STEALING RODENT!!!!! PREPARE TO MEET YOUR DEATH!!!!”
Husband: “HOLY $%&#*!!!!! Put that knife down!!!!!!”
Turns out, the chop block knives aren’t suppose to be dish-washed. So, husband was carefully making sure they never got cleaned in there by putting them back into the sink. He didn’t want to sound “like a jerk” by simply telling me they were not supposed to be dish-washed.
Episode 3: Sleeping Part 1.
Sleeping with Husband is always interesting. It got much MORE interesting when he started a new job and consequently got much more stressed. Oh, and we also have very different sleep schedules.
2 AM ( Hubs has been asleep approximately four hours).
Me: *Aww… Hubs looks so cute sleeping! Poor honey-poo in all stressed…. I know, I’ll be a great wifey-poo and snuggle him. He will love that.*
I slowly slipped my icicle foot (okay, the snuggling wasn’t JUST for Hubs) onto his side of the bed and began search for his foot. Finding his whole leg instead, I ran my freezing foot down the length of his warm leg.
Me: * Ahh!!! Bliss…what the!*
Husband: Leaping out of bed, throwing off the covers, yelled at the top of his lungs, “THERE IS SOMETHING IN THE BED! DON’T MOVE! IT JUST RAN DOWN MY LEG!!! HOLD ON I’LL KILL IT!”
Now I had two choices here…I was sorely tempted to react as well and thereby deflecting any guilt:
Me: “OH MY GOSH!!! OH BABE KILL IT!!! EWWWW!!! SAVE ME!!!!”
What REALLY happened..
Me: ” OH NO!!! I’M SORRY!!!! IT WAS MY FOOT!!!”
Husband: ” What?”
Me: “I was trying to snuggle you! Did you like it?”
Episode 4: Sleeping Part 2.
There have been several times when I try and snuggle Husband. Mostly, because I know he likes it, and also because I get really cold at night. Since we have such different sleeping schedules, I’m awake much later than he is. Which means when I snuggle him, he is deep into his REM.
Me: *Aww… Hubs is so cute… I’ll just put my arm over him, that won’t wake him up…I’m such a good snuggling wife.*
The next day.
Husband: “I had THE WORST dream last night! I was just chillin’ and then this FAT and HAIRY DUDE, like, just NASTY babe, came up and PUT HIS ARM on ME!!! UGH! It was the worst…”