I was on “vacation” a couple of weeks ago from work. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision to put in for it. Everyone else was scheduling their week off, and school is about to start, I was stressed out at work, and I scheduled it for the week following a jury trial I had scheduled out of town, so I knew that I would be burnt. So, I did it. It’s pretty much the first time off that I’ve scheduled for myself (pretty literally) since I took maternity leave with my 4 year old. I didn’t have any plans for a vacation at all, I just wanted to stay home and lay in the bed and vegetate.
That same day, my husband called to see how my day was going. I went through the routine. “Hey, what are you doing?” Me: “Working at my stupid job, what are you doing?” “Working, just calling to see how your day is going.” Me: “Great. I just put in for vacation the last week of July.” “Oh? Really? Okay.”
Two weeks later, at the dinner table, he said, “Oh, by the way, my vacation time got approved yesterday.” Me: “Your vacation time?” “Yeah.” Me: “Oh. When are you taking vacation?” “Uh, the SAME TIME THAT YOU ARE.”
He said it like I was stupid. Maybe I am. I never even thought about it. But okay, fine, whatever. I’m not opposed to togetherness time, I was just not imagining him lying next to me while I was vegging out in the bed, that’s all. He also managed to get off for the weekend before AND after my week off…that’s NINE DAYS of togetherness time. With no real plans to do anything. Wow. Together, we are like two kids that beg each other’s parents to let us spend the night over, and then 20 minutes into the sleepover we are arguing about what the other one wants to do for fun. NINE DAYS…
Anyway, we managed to argue very little during that time. We did projects around the house, did some school shopping, organized, cleaned up, and managed a few activities with the kids to get them out of the house. Movies, the lake. We had a pretty good time. The only argument that I can recall wasn’t really an argument at all. It was him being stupid and me being childish about him being stupid. It was the afternoon AFTER I wrote the post “I hate stupid.” You can look it up, since I’m too lazy to link it here, if you haven’t already read it. But please, read it before you continue to read my narration of his stupidity, so that you will truly understand how appalled I was at his behavior.
We had left a store where we bought school shoes. We were heading to McDonald’s to get ice cream cones for everyone. We approached a busy intersection, and came up to a truck that was apparently thinking about turning right to get out of our path and allow us up to the stop sign. The guy was on his cell phone, and as soon as he missed his second opportunity to turn, my husband sped up rapidly, jerked around to the left, (into the oncoming traffic) and went around him. It scared the hell out of me. I said, “What are you doing?!” “He’s too busy talking on his cell phone to go!” Not being completely out of character, as he was born without the gene that allows normal individuals to exercise patience, I blew it off. But it irked me. We get to McDonald’s, and pull up behind a little white car already at the order board and speaker. We were literally there waiting for approximately 20 seconds, when, out of no where, my husband HONKS HIS HORN. It took me a second to realize what had just happened. The girl at the menu board was on her cell phone, and was apparently trying to get an order from whoever she was talking to. He saw said CELL PHONE (apparently cell phones are his trigger) and went all crazy stupid and instead of blurting out obscenities, it manifested in a HORN BLOW at the DRIVE THROUGH. Now. I do not recommend this, as you now stuck between two cars and you cannot get out, and you have just pissed off the car in front of you. I was mortified. When the girl realized that he had honked at HER, she stuck the entire upper half of her body out of her window, and started yelling and cursing him out, saying that she was trying order her mother-effing food and he was gonna have to mother-effing wait and that he was a no good, sorry piece of poop. He was clearly embarrassed. I was smiling inside. She was doing the exact same thing that I would have done in her position.
When she finally pulled around, I said, “Hey, don’t you think that if she had ordered her food already she would have pulled up?” “No,” he said, “She was too busy talking on her damn cell phone to order.” Okay. Whatever. When he ordered 5 ice cream cones, I blurted out, “I don’t want one.” On the way home, while sitting with my arms crossed across my chest, looking at nothing out of the passenger’s window, I realized that he had just engaged (TWICE in less than 10 minutes) in the very activities that I had chastized in my post of that morning. I thought about what kind of choices I had made in my life that I was stuck living with this person, this person who was the epitome of what I hated most. Stupid. It made me angrier the more I thought about it. When we got home, he said, “What do you want for supper?” Me: “I don’t know. I’ll go to the store.” “No, I wanted to go, but you can come with me.” Me: “No, you go.” “You don’t want to go with me?” Me: “No.” He sulked out of the house to the car. Later, I realized that I was acting like an ass. I also realized that the day’s revelations hadn’t been so striking at all. He’s threatened to walk out of doctor’s offices before because the order in which they were taking people back didn’t seem logical to him, and even though our child was running a 104 degree fever, he wasn’t going to put up with all this waiting B.S. I’ve actually LEFT WORK to take over waiting with a child at the doctor’s office so that he could leave because of his high principles about time management at doctor’s offices. This seems like a really ass-y person to you, doesn’t it? Well, I can tell you that he’s got his ass-y ways. But so do I. We sort of complement one another. When I’m ready to kill one of our children, he usually is the one that steps in as the voice of reason and says, “No, let’s not kill him today.” So, okay. One of our children survived another day. I’ll not elaborate on my ass-y ways, you’ll have to trust me on that.
None of us are perfect. My husband certainly isn’t. But if I focus on what I believe to be his short-comings without regard for my own, that’s not fair. So I stopped being a pouty kid that night, and let him cook me supper and then pop popcorn for the family as we sat down to watch a movie. He’s a pretty good guy.
And that’s why we all survived an entire NINE DAYS together. Luckily, these stars won’t fall into the alignment that allows for this much togetherness time for probably another four years. 🙂