Oh...Just me? Okay.
Sometimes I look back, (thinking hours here, not long term reflection--no need to give myself panic attacks) and wonder how I could possibly be such a shit and have him continue to put up with me.
Of course, "Put up with" is a relative and individually interpreted term...
The washer had decided that not only would it not complete the spin cycle, it would protest rinsing. So I was
I was really just in a foul mood with life. The kids were making me wonder why humans don't eat their young, my hormones were trying to kill anything within throwing range, I was altogether
So what did he do? After informing me that my attitude was nowhere near acceptable, he single-handedly wrestled my
Then he came home and took irritable me and my eatable children out for the evening.
As I was getting ready and waiting for him to get back, I had this terribly painful moment of remorse...
I mean, I think that I might kill me if I had to live with me. But not only doesn't he kill me, he's actually quite in love with me (I always said that love was a strange beast).
The thing is, I wish I could catch myself in the moment. That first moment when I start to sour, before there's even a need for remorse.
He usually steps on my attitude the instant it starts to stray, but she's a squirmy little bitch, and can be difficult to pin down.
He's picking up the new washer today.
I'm making cream of broccoli/bacon soup with Caesar salad and probably an apology desert--I'm thinking brownies or coconut cream pie...
It works out.