Throw a fit and get a day to yourself!

For all the times that I have bitched about my husband, sometimes I wonder why the hell he still puts up with me.  Then again, after almost 18 years together, there are certain things that he just still doesn't get...

Number One?  He is not supposed to clean this house. 

He can pick up toys, he can take laundry from the bedroom to the laundry room.  Hell - I'll even tolerate the occasional quick brooming of the foyer floor.  But the minute he pulls out the Windex I just want to rip his fucking head off.

I know what you are thinking...every woman I have ever told this to has said the same thing: 

"Mindi - are you crazy?  I would love it if my husband helped around the house."

Perhaps I am crazy.  Who am I kidding?  Yes - I'm nuts.  But there is a logic to my insanity.  I could sweep the kitchen floor three times a day and it would still need to be done two more times.  I don't know if my kids are messier than most or if it is something else.  All I know is that I never realized how far having a dog went towards keeping the floor clean until after she died.  I used to clean all the windows daily, and yet still got kid-prints all over them 5 minutes later.  I decided a few years ago that I was finished with spending 2 hours per day cleaning the house...that I would set a cleaning schedule and stick to it.  The schedule keeps me somewhat sane.

And because of the schedule, I can relax on the sofa and read to the kids or just veg out.  The kitchen floor may need to be washed, but it is Saturday and the floor gets washed on Sunday night, Tuesday night and Friday...so it will just have to wait.  I just wish that Brad "got" that. (but perhaps he isn't quite as OCD as I am...)

Oh - and Rule Number Two?  He sure as shit DOES NOT try to clean the house when I am PMSing.

Here was my intended schedule for the day:  take the boys to karate, come home after karate and play with the kids for an hour or two, then take The Queen with me to Bead & Wire Fest while Brad took the boys to a birthday party, come home, make dinner, put the kids to bed then snuggle up on the sofa with Brad & watch a DVD.  Sounds pretty good, eh?

Until I came home from karate to find Brad cleaning....

I don't remember my exact words, but I believe it went something like this:

Why are you doing this?  It isn't your job!  That's my job!  Now I can't go to BeadFest because I can't leave with you cleaning!  I wasn't planning on doing that until tomorrow and now that you are doing it I have to help you!  Now I won't even get to BeadFest until it is almost The Queen's nap time and she will be a holy terror and I won't be able to enjoy it at all!  How can you be so fucking inconsiderate!?

Yes - that's right.  I called my husband who was cleaning the house "inconsiderate".  Aren't hormones fun?

Bottom line?  I ended up with pretty much the day to myself (it's amazing how far some tears can get you) as he stopped the cleaning and told me that he would take The Queen with him to the party.  When I got home at 3:30, he was taking The Queen up for her nap and the boys wanted to go out and play.  He spent the next 3 hours outside with them and BestFriendMommy and her kids while I finished the cleaning (which he doesn't do right anyway....so there....with a foot stomp!) and waited for my daughter to wake up.

The amazing thing?  He didn't take The Queen to the party and then take the boys out for 3 hours because he couldn't stand to look at me.  He did it because he could tell I wasn't having a good day and was just trying to be nice (which was why he was doing the cleaning in the first place)

Sometimes having a really nice husband just sucks ass....