-image-10 day supply of anti-malaria pills

February 3, 2009 | bitterness,Me,Mr. Squirrel

They’re sitting on my counter. Mr. Squirrel heads out of the country, leaving us behind in a cloud of resentment. Oh yes. I’m bitter.

Nope. My mom’s not coming out to help. She’s all “traveling abroad” herself and throwing shrimps on the bar-bee and taking pictures of the shire.

I’ve discovered that my husband ordered flowers for me to arrive while he’s enjoying his iPod and random recent movies on the plane, reading books and magazines sans interruption on the plane, visiting London to hang with his best friend, eating many foreign delectables without having to order a kiddie sized meal or cutting up meat into acceptable shapes and sizes, traveling to India without me, sleeping without interruption (from children anyway), having spare time after work to himself away on business. I know this sounds bitchtacular, but flowers are one more thing for me to take care of.

Your husband/boyfriend/wife/whatever doesn’t give you flowers and I should be grateful? Well, come over here. You can have them. I’m allergic to flowers and have been forever. He knows this. I love flowers. I do. I just like them elsewhere. Not in my house. I don’t like having to cut the stems, change the water and pick up the petals which fall all over because I invariably forget to water them and they all die away. And then the water/ends get moldy and HELLO migraine.

What I need while he’s gone? H.E.L.P. I know…millions of women (and men) do this every single day. I know this, and to those parents I say “dude. That royally sucks.” Because you know what? I’m tired. I haven’t slept more than 4 hours at a stretch in well over a year and I’m tired. I’m so so so tired and BAH and WAH. Also? It’s my blog and I can bitch if I want to…

For Mother’s Day, here’s what I want husband: the night before, I want to hug and kiss and cuddle my boys, then I want to go out to a fun dinner with some close girlfriends. After dinner, I want to check into a hotel by myself, watch a movie (no, not that kind of movie) by myself, read a book by myself and then sleep, uninterruped, BY MY FUCKING SELF.

In the morning, I’m going to get a big, thick newspaper and a big, nummy coffee, spread out on the bed and read it. Somewhere in that morning routine, a doughnut or two may make an appearance. It’s been known to happen.

Then, I want to reconvene with the chitlins and my husband and enjoy a day together outside. That is all. I’ll be refreshed and eager to see them…probably even miss the little boogerboys. Oh yes. I miss them NOW and they’ve only been napping for like an hour.

If that’s too much, then I’d just like the driveway paved so this summer isn’t a daily struggle in keeping Jojo in the yard and NOT dodging his big wheel around passing motorists.

I’m grouchy. the end.