Saturday, August 21, 2010

House Husband

Joe claims I have immasculated him.


In the World According to Joe, while I was "traipsing about town" today and "partying it up", he was stuck with the grocery shopping and house cleaning in anticipation of having a couple of esteemed dinner guests over. Needless to say, he was not overjoyed with me when I came home today and hollered, "Honey, I'm home!" Which I think is poop.

I was not traipsing. I know you were wondering. After all, I don't even know what traipsing technically looks like. I also didn't know that people honestly used the word "traipsed" anymore. It's a nearly extinct word, hobnobbing with the likes of "boudoir" and, well, "hobnobbing". I was actually sitting in a Weight Watchers meeting, secretly repenting for the dinner I was already planning on cooking for the aforementioned guests. I lost 1.4 pounds. I also used just as much butter in cooking dinner tonight, so I feel fairly confident today was a one-step-forward-two-steps-back kind of day.

As for the "partying it up", the party I went to involved a cake made of diapers, baby shower games, and fabulous gourmet cupcake--so if he was talking about the party in my mouth, he was correct. How I love thee, butter cream icing and sprinkles! And now that I realize that I ate a huge cupcake, a stuffed pepper, butter-saturated potatoes, French bread, and a butter-coated concoction disgustingly named a "Dump Cake", I'm actually filled with self-loathing for my lack of self-control.

Isn't that enough for you, Joe?

But noooo. He complained. With his eyes. With his grimace. With the sweat rolling off of his nose into the toilet he was cleaning. And he was pissed. Not because he was doing it, but because he was doing it all alone. Whatever did we do before we had eachother to share such misery with?

Oh, he got me back. He had a John Wayne movie on for what seemed like forever. When it was over, he put on yet another decades-old treasure featuring Paul Newman (*rawr*). It was payback. If the movie wasn't at least 50 years old, it wasn't going to play on our t.v. He kicked his feet up, cracked the whip, and said, "Cook for us, woman, now!"

And I did it like the little housewife I am. What goes around definitely comes around.

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