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Reluctant Mother Visits the Dog House (Again)

Not the Dog House. . .

You know, it seems there is seldom a waking minute when I’m not “in trouble” with someone.

It’s either the kid, or a cat, or the husband, or a neighbor.  I sincerely apologize to crazy neighbor guy that our geriatric dog crapped inches away from your turf the other day while I was walking her.  It wasn’t my intent for her to relieve herself there.  And if you noticed, thank you for not berating me for 35 minutes. . .or worse. . .

My most recent all expenses paid trip to the dog house was courtesy of my Husband.

We were out-of-town for a night this past weekend visiting my family.

And as we all know sometimes (most times) coming home is even worse than getting away in the first place.

Typically, when we plan to be out-of-town overnight, we try to do so on the weekends when Chris doesn’t work on Friday.  This way, we have an extra day to get our acts together before he has to go back to work and Mac and I have to settle into our “routine.” (aka my frustrated attempts to thwart his attacks on the dishwasher, the wall hangings, the cats, and my person).

But this trip, it didn’t work out that way, which meant my poor Husband didn’t get a break.  At. All.

Sunday at 2:15, we drag all our gear into the house greeted by the cats and dogs, who, as always were very busy while we were gone:  Mountains of shedding pet fur everywhere; the cats clearly walked all over every surface in the house, save for the ceiling; and the fridge was in need of some restocking.

So as we stood in the middle of the kitchen surveying the carnage, I said to Chris, “Daddy should take Mac to the grocery while I clean the house.”

I didn’t think I said it in an aggressive manner.  In fact, I thought it was a great idea presented in an upbeat manner.  He err we don’t love putting the kid on a filthy floor and if Chris took the kid to the grocery for even just a few items, I could get the house back in order.

In fact, I was feeling pretty smart when I said it.  It seemed logical.  It seemed functional and all GO TEAM MORRONE. . .

Except apparently it was PERCEIVED as:  inconsiderate and bossy, followed up with a dose of mildly combative.

Welcome to the dog house, again, Deni.

My suggestion, and I SWEAR it was just a suggestion!! was met with a rather dour glance and then some seriously cranky body language.

So I back pedaled.

I offered to take Mac to the grocery while Chris cleaned if that was more appealing to him.

It wasn’t.

So I back pedaled some more, feeling a little frustrated since I thought I had made a reasonable suggestion.

I offered to clean and just walk to the grocery the following day.

Wrong answer again.

And at this point I was completely flabbergasted because I couldn’t seem to offer any workable solution to my Husband – whom I know for a fact was tired, and HUNGRY and there’s no dealing with him when he’s hungry.

So I somewhat passive-aggressively reiterated my point about doing all the chores and finding him a can of pears to pack in his lunch the following day. . .

Which was met with a bunch of accusations about why I didn’t make a grocery list while he was driving the three hours home, and to not argue in front of the kid, and why didn’t I plan this better?  And no, he wasn’t going to get just a few items and some fruit because then he’d have to just go back to the grocery in a few days.

Um because I had just thought of this plan and back the eff off already Mr. Hungry Holier Than Thou. . .

Chris marched out with Mac but without the meager list I frantically scribbled in an effort to appease him while he was unloading the rest of the gear from the car.


I was left alone in the dog house, which this time contained 4 loads of laundry, a mountain of pet hair to make disappear, and floors to mop, contemplating once again the error of my ways.