4.06.2009

The Day Of Rest

Susan spent most of the day not speaking with the husband. Unfortunately, she couldn't entirely un-manacle herself from his company. But, not talking to him was satisfying enough.

The morning started out as every Sunday morning does, with the promise of reading the papers over coffee.
Is there no greater joy than that?
Of course there isn't.

Susan made the coffee and while it brewed a combination of factors sent her into a TWISTED spiral of angry frustration. It began with the dishwasher not effectively cleaning the dishes. Susan muttered to herself as she discovered that dish after cup after spoon needed to be rinsed off. Susan should not be rinsing anything, that's what the dishwasher is for. She began re-loading the machine and intercepted a wine glass that the husband had hand washed & left to dry.

Let's stop right here.
Susan and the husband have a history involving his hand washing of glassware.
The husband has been instructed repeatedly not to engage in any hand washing of any glassware because he consistently leaves behind any or all of the following;
fingerprints, grease smudges, soap residue, dried food and Chapstick lips.
Susan no longer delivers this request in a civilized manner, she goes immediately to berserk.

Susan picked the wine glass up and held it to the light,
as she does with all the glassware, and saw the telltale remnants of the husband's handiwork.

By this time the husband had entered the kitchen.
Susan pointed out, for the millionth time, that another wine glass had been washed dirty by himself.

Susan was hungry. Susan had dishes in her hands.
There were words coming out of the husband's mouth but who really gives a sh*t and just stop washing the f*cking glasses!

Susan made this request several times in close succession and increasing shrillness because the husband was trying to put forth his convoluted nonsense. However, when she heard him threaten to throw her wine glasses into the garbage her frustration reached critical mass.
Susan suggested that they can start throwing everything out right now and made her point by throwing a cereal bowl at him.
She didn't throw it at his stupid face, she threw it at his feet.

The rest of the morning & most of the afternoon was spent in arctic silence, even during their time as dinner guests in his sister's house.

2 comments:

jfklisa said...

Can I come over for dinner soon?

Cousin Lisa

Cupcake Murphy said...

Good lord this was funny! Now I don't have to divorce myself or admit that I'm the wrong one in my next couples therapy session with my husband who washes dishes like others use paper mache. It fills me with a fury I cannot describe so thank you for doing so.