BATTLE OF THE SEXES, Boobidoo vs. Dickidoo

Last night I was yawning by 10.  I should have gone to bed then, but no... silly me thought it was a good time to 'bond' with my husband.  So I shut down the computer which I had turned on to post my last entry and do a little reading after watching 'Hellboy' with the family.  I asked him about his homework, which had been neglected during the movie.  Things were going pleasantly until I mentioned how I was actually looking forward to 'retiring' in the spring.  That opened the door for the lecture from hades.  I sat there stubborning refusing to 'do everything' for the kids as he wanted, stating that I would get them on track and then teach them to take care of their rooms, the house (hahaha, thats a good one now but it wasn't then).  I was NOT quitting to become the maid. 

General comments became outright accusations and me, being me, wasn't going to have any of that.  But what really popped my cork was when he used my dinner bowl as an example, knowing full well that it was mine, he says that he was willing to put money on the fact that it would have remained there all night.  Now that was just not fair, I hadn't even gone back upstairs after eatting my dinner but I ALWAYS clear up my dishes.  His point, he said in a tone usually used on the kids, is what is the right thing to do?  That was it!  I jumped up, shared a little vocabulary with him and took off upstairs.

That was about the time the whole thing became a music-less country song.  I went straight to the bedroom, so angry I had tears pouring down my face.  I just wanted to run away and I had no place to go!  I needed to calm down and there was no place in this house of many rooms that I could call my own and hide away in.  My computer room is now my son's bedroom until he goes to bootcamp.  There was no way I was going to lay in THAT bed with HE WHO CAN DO NO WRONG, not with those vows from our wedding 20 years ago ringing fresh in my head...'til death do us part'.  Through my tears I looked down and there was the hatchet we had taken camping and never put away after unpacking the backpacks... That made me laugh despite it all, but I knew I had to get out of the room.

So I went to the dark livingroom and curled up like a crybaby on the oversized chair, pouting.  I heard him moving around downstairs, I heard the sound of his empty beer bottle from the night before being thrown away, evidence I could have used earlier but I was just too dang mad to play my cards... and then he brought up the kids dirty dishes.  I'm sure he thought they were all mine.  It makes me soooo mad that he thinks like that about me when he is the very one guilty of what he accuses me of.  I am guilty of dirty dishes in the kitchen.  And the laundry pile, I guess thats my job..... that pile on the side of my bed, definitely mine (can't deny that one), but I don't recall ever agreeing to absorb all of the kids faults as my own.  We both work, but somehow the house is also my responsibility and when he does something it is as a favor to me... huh?  I pulled out my marriage license.... theres nothing there about that.  In the back of my mind my little red conscience is whispering 'til death do us part', while the white conscience is beating her with the pitchfork screaming 'through good times and bad, ?itch!'

I lay there for hours, not realizing that I had slept until the cold woke me up.  When I went to the room, he was hogging the bed and snoring contentedly.  I shoved him over to his side.  I hate when he snores while I'm awake, especially when I'm mad at him.  I want him to be sleepless like me!  I guess I finally went back to sleep because when I opened my eyes he was gone.  There was no indication of a struggle so I know I didn't sleep walk or anything. 

A bowl... this was all over a dirty bowl.  I guess a dirty bowl has a shorter parking expiration time than an empty beer bottle.  That bowl was only on the bar for 2 hours.  The beer bottle sat on the table for 24 hours and that was okay.  I'll have to remember that.... its okay to leave beer bottles laying around.  Well, I guess I better get ready for work, and feed those little consciences of mine, they had a rough night.