Thursday, April 30, 2009

It's Just Not So Cute Any More

When you're dating and first married, things your spouse does are cute, or annoying in that oh so funny newlywed way. (The way that involves sweaty make up sex.)
After 13 years, four pregnancies, three babies, a couple of mortgages, pain and suffering, it's no longer cute. (In the "we're not having sex any time soon, you idiot!" sort of way.)
In fact, it just pisses ya off.
While I know The Man has his own list of imagined things I do that irritate him (like I could ever be annoying!) this is my b log and his list doesn't matter.
I wonder how old married couples survive without murdering their spouse.
Last night, homicide was right at the front of my mind, and the lamp I was holding over my head cost too much to replace or I'd be writing a different blog right about now.
The Man wouldn't stay on his side of the bed. At All. Roll over and get a whiff of his mouth breathing morning breath every time I tried to move.
And, because he's home all day with nothing but the heathens for stimulating conversation, he babbles at me when I get home. As if I haven't spent all day talking to people and as if I want to hear another human voice at all after my work day is finished.
And as I'm typing this, he's trying to read over my shoulder and asking if I don't like him (duh!) and if he should just leave (again--duh!)
Marriage takes its toll on the sweet innocence of courtship. Children leave stretchmarks on the fabric of their parents relationship just as surely as they left them on my stomach.
Time and tide make you less apt to jump your partner's bones after a long absence, and more likely to jump their ass about the dirty socks left on the floor.
Does it mean there is any less love? Nope. Marriage is a commitment and I've committed myself most firmly to torturing The Man until the day he dies.
Then I'll go out and find myself a young, nubile Latin lover name Pedro.
Or maybe Tom?
But that will be another blog.

1 comment:

Tara said...

You had to go there (Tom). Oh you kill me. Not so long ago, I spent many a family gathering harassed over and over again for my lack of a husband. My oh-so diplomatic way to get them to leave me the .... alone was to tell them that I had yet to meet a man I hated enough to torture by making him live with me for the rest of my life. Someone forgot to mention that to my husband... Isn't that what marriage is all about?