The “Bad Husband” Chronicles

Just another day for you and me in Paradise

Posts Tagged ‘wit’

Chapter 6

Posted by mozziestarlet on September 25, 2008

8am: The husband is dead asleep and I come downstairs to let the dog out for his morning potty break and patiently wait while he tends to his ‘business.’ I grab the pooper scooper and fling the poop out into the wild, blue yonder of my backyard. I’m puzzled because I don’t hear the usual ‘thump’ of its landing. Within seconds, the poop has plummeted down and hit me directly in the head. I let out a panicked scream which provides some much needed comic relief to my ‘Chatty Kathy’ neighbor next door who is watching on pins and needles. I’m always thrilled when I can inject a little humor into another person’s daily routine, most of all, hers.

10am: I am introduced to our latest staff member in the office who will be in charge of Business Development. I politely shake his hand and receive the full-frontal body scan that is innate in ALL men. After shaking off an unmistakable ‘Serial Killer’ vibe from him, I retreat to my office and close the door. Time to re-visit the company’s ‘Sexual Harassment’ policy as we definitely have a dark horse in the running.

1pm: ‘SK’ (Serial Killer) asks me if I can “CARVE out some time” in my schedule for him later to discuss Marketing initiatives. He continues to tell me how he collects animal skulls and carcasses as a hobby. I reluctantly give him the “Oh really, that’s SO interesting” smile and finally realize the significance of having watched The Silence of the Lambs over a dozen times on those back-to-back TNT weekend marathons. ‘SK’ has now been crowned ‘BBSK’ (Buffalo Bill Serial Killer) by Yours Truly. I’m wondering if he’s going to keep a close eye on my fat back and issue me the following command: “Now IT rubs the lotion on ITS skin.”

4pm: ‘Clueless VP’ rings my desk to ask me if I can print out the email and documents that I emailed him earlier that morning. Apparently, the ‘print’ icon on his desktop is as immobile and useless as he is. But, given that I have 8 arms, I politely oblige and take pride in knowing that I continue to reinforce the company’s ‘Consider the environment before you print this’ policy.

6pm: I arrive home to the welcomed surprise of ‘Chatty Kathy’ in my driveway with both unruly children in tow. Since her driveway is cluttered with patio chairs, bikes and every toy Mattel produces, it only makes sense that the kids practice their artistry in the form of sidewalk chalk all over my driveway. Oh, joy. And people have the nerve to say that I do not support ‘the arts’ in my area!


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Chapter 5

Posted by mozziestarlet on September 24, 2008

8am: I practice the clever ‘boot scootin’ boogie’ from the front door of the house to my car. The husband’s parking talents continue to amaze me as he leaves just enough room between his car and mine to put a really impressive dent in my car door. My ‘custom’ paint job is the envy of all my neighbors.

8:15-8:45am: I retreat into my daily lyrical bliss of my true husband, Morrissey. I count the reasons in my head of why I’m convinced he should marry me. I will definitely need to chronicle these reasons later in the day because I’m 100% certain that I can present a worthwhile argument.

9am: I do the ‘happy, happy, joy, joy’ skip from my office to the conference room for the Monday 9am staff meeting. ‘Clueless VP’ has impeccable scheduling abilities and always takes into account the Monday morning commute for everyone in the office.

11am: The husband phones me at the office to tell me his car won’t crank. Given that I apparently keep an Auto Repair Guide on my hip at all times, I immediately know how to solve the problem.

12:30pm: The husband phones me at the office again to ask if I can “have lunch with him.” My husband ‘lingo and behavioral translator’ immediately decodes the message to mean that he wants me to spend my hour lunch by bringing lunch to him.

2pm: Time for a meeting with my favorite co-worker, ‘Deer in Headlights,’ a real dumb as a stump girl who always has a surprised look on her face no matter what we are talking about. She amazes me how she can live in a constant state of exhaustion from chatting on IM all day. My sympathy is beyond expression.

6pm: I arrive home to be greeted by my ‘Chatty Kathy’ neighbor next door. I’m convinced that she must work for the CIA, as she is able to predict the precise moment every evening that I pull into my driveway. I smile as she makes her way over to my yard. Heavy briefcases and arms full of filing folders are no deterrent to a woman with nothing but time on her hands.

7pm: Praise, the Lord for Easy Mac dinners. The husband and I would certainly starve to death without them on a regular basis. 100 ways to make Mac-n-Cheese ranks higher than The Catcher in the Rye in terms of required reading material.

9pm: I decide to attempt a meaningful conversation with the husband who is exhausted and drowsy from surfing the net all day. I’m astounded that a person can be asleep, but still manage to increase the volume on the TV while I’m talking. Surely, the odds surrounding that are staggering!

11pm: Time for a brief episode of the ‘Let Mama love the puppy game’ with the dog. This is when I say, in my best beck and call voice, “Come see Mama and let’s play the Let Mama love the puppy game.” This is, without a shadow of a doubt, the highlight of every day as I am showered with puppy affection that is almost entirely unsolicited. The best part of the game is that he manages to stay awake until I am finished!



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Chapter 3

Posted by mozziestarlet on September 23, 2008

6pm: I arrive home after a ten hour day of ‘feeding the monkeys’ in the office, sit my purse down and kick off my shoes. Phew, time to finally put my feet up, right?

6:30pm: The husband wakes from his daily 4 hour nap, slithers downstairs, and asks the $24,000 question in our home:“Hey babe, what’s for dinner?” I mask my contempt and overwhelming desire to stab him to death with the kitchen shears and start digging through the pantry.

7:30pm: Dinner is ready after an hour of preparation. Only a five-star meal will suffice after a hard day spent napping.

8pm: I decide that I should probably eat myself, because I will certainly need fuel for the husband’s laundry duties that require my attention later. You see, the only way you will actually have any clean clothes to wear in our home is if you WASH them.

8:15pm: I have just set the World Record for the fastest meal ever consumed. I seem to break my record every day…able to gobble entire meals in a single bound.

8:15-10pm: Time to check email, pay the ‘past due’ bills from the top of the pile and do my trademark ‘Rob Peter to pay Paul’ tango. The music may change, but the dance is always the same.

10pm: I take the dog out for his nightly potty break because the husband’s back is “really hurting, ok?”

10:15pm: The laundry in the washer and dryer that I asked the husband to switch out, dry and fold yesterday will now have to be re-washed. Moldy and wrinkled attire is generally discouraged at my office.

11:15pm: Time for bed. The sacred moment I’ve been dreaming about since I set my first foot on the floor this morning. I say my prayers, but contemplate if I’m on the ‘do not call’ list and if the Big JC is too busy to hear or to help.

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Chapter 2

Posted by mozziestarlet on September 23, 2008

1am: The husband cooks his dinner and plays the bongos on every pot and pan in the house for my listening enjoyment. Music is a BIG influence in our lives.

2-3am: The husband decides to do laundry which obviously requires all the lights on in the house, starting with the master bedroom. Science has repeatedly proven that light exposure does not affect the amount of quality sleep one receives.

4am: Since the husband fed the dog his unwanted dinner leftovers from 1am and has the apparent inability to let him out before retiring to his quarters upstairs, the dog now has to poop.

5:30am: The husband remembers that he has a doctor’s appointment at 9:30am which requires the husband to wake me up to remind me to get his ass out of bed before I leave for the office. Alarm clocks obviously don’t work in our home.

5:50am: I’m awake and there’s no changing that. I decide to start the coffee because hell, why not? I’m up.

I realize that like most people, I’m a “parent” too. The only difference is that I have all of the sacrifice, but none of the reward.

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Chapter 1

Posted by mozziestarlet on September 23, 2008

The IM conversation that started it all!

“The husband says:
hey babe
I say:
hey, just eating lunch at my desk. how are you?
The husband says:
not to good babe
I say:
The husband says:
my dehydration is actting up pretty bad
I say:
well, go to the supermarket and either get some Gatorade or ask the pharmacist what they recommend
The husband says:
chills, throwing up when I drink water, bad, bad head ache and dizzy
I say:
then call and get in to see a doctor right away
The husband says:
it will be ok I just need gatorade, a big gatorade
I say:
are you able to go and get it? i can’t leave the office in the middle of the day with projects on my plate
The husband says:
no, no. to shakey, and the head ache is makeing me kinda blurry eyed
I say:
so, you need me to get it then on my way home?
The husband says:
do you mind babe?
I say:
Well, I would ‘mind’ our car insurance premium skyrocketing when you get in a head-on collision a lot more
The husband says:
water just dont stay down very long
I say:
i will stop on my way home.
The husband says:
I’m sorry babe, I’m just very, very shakey
I say:
try and keep still and continue to stay hydrated until I can stop and pick up some Gatorade for you.
The husband says:
I guess one day for a change you’ll turn to me and say, “do you mind doing me a favor”?
I say:
I think both of us know who takes care of most of the favors in our home
The husband says:
im sorry honey, I know how hard you work
I say:
The husband says:

1pm: The husband phones me at work to tell me he is apparently suffering an allergic reaction from his 20 hr. work week. Nausea, chills, blurred vision and hallucinations involving deceased relatives are common symptoms.

3pm: The husband requests that I make a stop by the supermarket to ‘get something to set him straight.’ The five minute drive to the supermarket is much more difficult for him than a 25 minute drive home for me.

6pm: I juggle four 64 oz. Gatorade bottles on my hip and battle the evening lines in the supermarket.

7pm: I’ve been home 20 minutes and the husband is ‘hungry.’ Since I haven’t been chained to the kitchen like all proper wives should be, this will require another trip out to get dinner.

3am: The husband rises from his quarters to the bathroom and ‘springs’ the inevitable booby-trap of clutter in which he lives. I awake to the crushing and thunderous sound of his 400 lb. fall. Obviously, Christ has returned because nothing else could cause such a calamity. In true Morrissey fashion, I shout, “Come Armageddon, come Armageddon come!”

3:30am: I’m wide awake so I decide to turn my frown upside down and have a bowl of Fruity Pebbles. Like me, they are bursting with fruit flavor.

Posted in Bad Husband, bad marriage, bad spouse, Comic Wit, Difficult Spouse, Divorce, family, Funny, Humor, Life, Love, Marriage, Morrissey, Spouse, wives | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments »