Marriage Illustrated with Crappy Pictures (7 page)

Yes, I did. About three months ago.

And with that he simply replaces the cushion on top of the cars, sits down and says, “Guess not.”

THE CAT LITTER

We have two Crappy Cats. For years and years I was the one who changed and cleaned the litter box. Then I got pregnant and Crappy Husband took over because that’s the way it works if you read a pregnancy book and get paranoid. Not that I complained about relinquishing my duties.

Now, several years later:

He really can’t argue with this.

JUST BLOOD

Crappy Husband walks into the bathroom and sees a huge brown streak splattered across the white fabric shower curtain.

I reassure him that it isn’t poop. Just blood.

He shrugs and walks away.

This story sums up the state of cleanliness of our house. A pint of blood smeared in the bathroom? No big deal. At least it isn’t poop.

(It was hair dye, by the way.)

WAY TO A MAN’S HEART

The way to a man’s heart is not just through food or his penis. There is another way.

Obscure
Star Wars
references.

CLASSIFIED AD

Of course, sometimes our interests don’t match up. I could live in a fabric store while he starts to die upon entering one. He could talk about guitar amps for ten hours while I can only pretend to listen for ten minutes.

This is my official classified ad. Email [email protected] if interested. I can pay in beer or wine.

HOBBIES

We both have tons of hobbies. This makes life fun. And cluttered.

I can’t get rid of anything that might possibly be used or repurposed in the name of arts and crafts.

And I can’t help but collect things that might possibly be used or repurposed in the name of arts and crafts.

Crappy Husband tries to talk me out of it, saying it isn’t a chair, it’s just junk. But I know better. Someday I’ll refinish it and reupholster it and it will be a lovely chair. Someday. For now, just stick it in the garage with the others.

It pains me to leave things with potential behind. They need me! Or what if two months from now one of our chairs breaks and we need a replacement? I should take this one as backup!

But he is just as bad. Worse, really. He won’t get rid of anything.

So of course we have to keep it.

EXCHANGING GIFTS

When we were dating, we’d surprise each other with gifts for birthdays and holidays. A lot of time and energy went into selecting the perfect item.

We’re married with kids now. We don’t have time or energy.

So now we both just tell each other what we want. Sometimes we’ll just go ahead and buy it for ourselves and then say, “Hey, thanks for the birthday shoes you bought me today! I love them, they’re perfect!”

The types of gifts have changed too. There is always an extreme lack of handcuffs, sex dice and edible underwear under our Christmas tree.

We exchanged a tea kettle and a cozy blanket. Because that is what we wanted. We just want to be comfortable and cozy. Like elderly people. And you know what? It’s great. Edible underwear tastes horrible anyway.

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY & TUBBIN’

We’re sitting on the back patio and the kids are asleep. It’s our anniversary. We start talking about how nice it would be to have a hot tub.

We’ve wanted a hot tub for a long time. A hot tub is like a bath you can take with your friends. A hot tub has just the right amount of sharks. It’s healthy and lowers stress, just like joining a gym, but it is cheaper in the long run. Plus, we’re more likely to stick with it!

But we don’t have one. And it isn’t going to magically appear for us.

Sigh. I look out over the yard. I notice the blue plastic kiddie pool. It’s just sitting there looking lonely.

I jump up and drag it over onto the cement of the patio.

I have a plan and I will not stop until I have a hot tub. First, we fill every pot in our house with water and start heating them on the stove. Then we fill bucket after bucket after bucket of hot water from the kitchen and garage and lug them out and pour them into the pool.

It is exhausting.

Finally, we are done! We grab a bottle of wine, take off some clothes and get in our DIY tub.

It is pure bliss. Just. Perfect. Sure, I can only get half of my body underwater at any one time, but half relaxed is better than not relaxed at all.

All that work carrying buckets was so totally worth it! We should do this every night!

Crappy Husband isn’t so sure.