Thursday, December 09, 2004

Pantrygirl will not be caged!

I don't ask much of my husband.


An occasional hook in the closet and taking the recyclables and trash out
suffice.


I've never asked him to cook for me although I enjoy it.


I don't even ask him to clean up his chocolate candy droppings or his empty
Snapple bottles.


Every month, I kindly remind him of the requests I've made.  Requests
such as: vacuum ceiling fan, make your annual physical appointment and put up
that hook in my closet.


Last night, after 9 months, Lrudlrick put up the hook.  He awoke me from
the couch and told me to go to bed.  When I walked past his cleaned out
closet and my closet, he asked me if I wanted to see them.  Wearily and
crankily I did.  He got upset and walked out to walk the dogs.


How the hell am I supposed to be happy and excited at 1 in the morning and 9
months after I requested it?  Understand how you get upset when the simple
work requests go unfulfilled by the super?  Well, imagine that's what I go
through with you but I don't get upset.  I just resign myself to sending
you reminders.


I don't go out and find the super, the managing agent and the board president
and plan to show the errors in their performance.  You do.


I don't tell my wife that the meeting is at 8 so either take your shower now
or after they come and have them show up at 9am.  You do.


I don't lock my wife in the bedroom with the key stuck on the outside of the
door.  You do.


I don't leave my wife and two full bladder dogs in the locked bedroom and
leave the house.  You do.


I don't leave my wife in a room where she's asked for a phone installed
without a phone and without any means of communication to you at 9:15 in the
morning.  You do.


I don't leave my wife in a room without means of communication and without a
single form of sustenance.  You do.


Did I mention I had a full bladder?


Your wife had to pull out her memories of Nancy Drew and MacGyver to get
herself out of there. I thought about leaving myself in there to rot while you
go to work and subsequently to a Christmas party; but the dogs would be the
victim.  My only choices were get myself out or climb through the fire
escape to our neighbor and call you ass to get home.


I opted to use the last option as a last resort.  45 mins later. 
Your wife has ruined two bobby pins, her manicure shears, her tweezers and one
cuticle pusher.


As of this moment, you suck.  You suck and owe me big Mister. 
Remember, Christmas is around the corner and I've started deducting!


You're plans for leaving me alone with your mom on Friday are shot.  You
are coming home from work.  I'm not waiting for your butt to get home. 
If you pull some stunt, I'm leaving them at the house alone.


You owe me a tree that you promised we'd get last Sunday, last Monday and
last night.


You will help me decorate the tree.


You will take my Saturday escort duties for your mother.


You owe me big, Mister.


And you begin to pay today!