Showing posts with label bad wife. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad wife. Show all posts

Feb. 20: Chats with Jen and Vic

This is a real and mostly factual account of conversations between me and my husband in the last 24 hours.


Victor walks into the room, drinking coffee.

Jen: I want coffee! Where’s my coffee?


Jen: Close your eyes.

Victor: OK. (closes his eyes)

Jen: Now don’t open them, no matter what I do.

Victor laughs.

Jen: And don’t laugh.

Victor tries to frown. He fails. Jen proceeds to stick her fingers in Victor’s ears, nose, and mouth. Victor keeps his eyes closed, but he laughs.

Jen: You are not following the rules!

Victor tries to stop laughing. Apparently it’s hard to stop laughing when someone’s fingers are in your mouth, and he keeps laughing.

Jen: (gives up) Whatev.


Jen: If you had a superpower, what would it be?

Vic: I would fly.

Jen: FLY? That’s so stupid! How does that help anything? What’s so super about being able to fly?

Vic: Well, what would would your superpower be?

Jen: I’d be invisible and I’d follow you to work to listen to you tell your coworkers what a screechy wench of a wife I am, and then you’d feel terrible because you’d know that I know what you say about me.

Vic: You better not cough.

Jen: I think the power of complete silence comes with the power of invisibility. You wouldn’t be able to hear me when I’m lurking around you.

Vic: Hm. Would you be naked?


Vic: Really, please get your fingers out of my mouth.


Jen: Jack just came in here and farted and then left. I blame you.

Victor: How is that my fault? I wasn’t even in here.

Jen: You’re teaching him how to be a boy like you. I want him to be a boy like me.


Jen: Where’s my coffee?

Victor obediently gets Jen a cup of coffee, with equal parts creamer and spit. He says the spit part’s not true, but Jen knows better. Still, coffee’s coffee.


Jen: You have grey beard hairs.

Victor: You married an old man.

Jen: I bet Zac Efron doesn’t have grey beard hairs.

Victor: I bet Zac Efron’s mom is younger than you.


Jen and Vic are watching the latest episode of Portlandia together.

Victor: I don’t get why…

Jen: Quiet! Here’s one of the Joel McHale commercials!

Vic: His hair looks weird, like he’s been sleeping on it. It looks like mine.

Victor takes off his cap to show flat, greasy, disgusting hair.

Jen: No. He’s dreamy. He’s a hipster, but the good kind. Look, he’s crying about his prom date. It makes me love him more.

Vic: Pfft. He has bedhead. You don’t think I’m sexy with bedhead.

Jen: Please put your cap back on.


And… scenePrincess

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Jul. 25: Delinquency

I didn’t blog all weekend. Victor didn’t do the dishes all weekend. We are bad. But at least we didn’t invent this:

I’ve got a list of about four different things to blog about, so watch this space for updates soon. As for the dishes, well, they never stop, do they? Vic will be busy for a while. Please don’t bother him.

Jan. 28: Worst. Wife. Ever.

Victor’s been working an early shift this week. Every morning that he’s out the door before I even get up, he gets the coffee maker all ready so when I come downstairs I only need to push START and guess what? Fresh coffee for Jen.

He’s a nice guy.

Yesterday morning I came downstairs and pushed START on the coffee maker and nothing happened. Now, if you read my post last night, you know that I was grouchy yesterday morning. So when I pushed START on the coffee maker and nothing happened, I opened the top of the coffee maker to see that Victor had NOT prepared my coffee for the day. And do you know what I did?

I cursed. I actually cursed. Worse, I cursed Victor. I cursed him for not preparing my coffee for the day.

I am not a nice guy.

I went ahead and made my own coffee, grumbling all the way, and then completely forgot about how angry I was at him. Completely forgot, that is, until this morning when I went to get coffee and thought I should check inside the coffee maker before I pushed START. And there I saw a clean, dry filter with just enough grounds for my 20-ounce mug (with room for French vanilla creamer, obvy). I pushed START and am now enjoying a cup of coffee that has NOT been sitting in the carafe for two hours.

And I’m feeling huge guilt for cursing Victor yesterday. It was uncalled for. It was mean. I’d like to think he brought it upon himself for getting me used to only having to push START every morning, but that wouldn’t be very appreciative of me, would it? And I do appreciate his efforts, even if he occasionally fails.

I should probably count on my coffee being at least half Vic-spit from now until I remember to apologize to his face.

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