Riding the crazy train.

I honestly believe that you can’t learn all there is to know about the opposite sex until you have married a member of it.

Yesterday, my husband announced that the break pads on his car needed to be replaced. Then he explained that he planned on doing it himself.


Personally, it doesn’t seem of the brightest idea for him to go and replace the things that enable the car to stop. As much as I love saving the nonexistent money that we have, I enjoy having a husband even more.

So this morning he awoke bright and early and headed out to the parking lot to mess with his car and my truck. Eventually he came back in and told a sleeping SJ that he was “going to get mumble mumble mumble.”

My reply? “I just want to sleeeeeeeeeeeep!” Why I answered in this way, I’m not sure as I was asleep and I know he did not plan on bringing a sleeping SJ or Ellie to Wal-Mart or wherever he goes.

Yet here it is, at 1pm and HE IS STILL OUTSIDE. Is he fixing our vehicles? Has he made such a mess that my truck now has no tires and we must use a wrench and a coathanger to turn the steering wheel?

Why is this such a man thing? I mean, if there was something wrong domestically, I wouldn’t be all “NO! I can fix this!” and then go and search google on just how to re-wire a stove or fix plumbing issues.

Basically, I wouldn’t try to give myself a hysterectomy dude, so don’t go and “fix” my truck!

I think the really funny (Read: Not So Funny) part of this is that he is not in the house. Sure, the kiddo has somehow magically slept for over 12 hours (Yeah, getting a little worried on that one) but he doesn’t know it. When I say “NO! You will NOT do that and you will STAY INSIDE AND HELP ME WITH THE BABY!” he shouldn’t reply with “If I don’t go out there early then I will be out there all day.”

Wait. You have been out there all day, potentially leaving me with the baby when I’m Supposed To Be Getting Help Here. Today is also The Weekend, which means that HE SHOULD BE THE ONE WHO GETS UP WITH THE BABY but SOMEHOW IT SEEMS AS IF THAT HAS FALLEN ON MY WATCH WHILE HE “FIXES” THE BREAKS.

Doesn’t he realize that I’m crazy? That I go to a Crazy Doctor and that the thought of having non-existent breaks isn’t exactly what a crazy person needs?????

I need peace, quiet and ice cream.

Editor’s Note: He came back in and asked if I “was going to go anywhere tomorrow.” Why? Because he spilled oil and uh, my truck is smoking when you drive it. Why did he spill the oil? BECAUSE HE USED HIS HANDS AS A FUNNEL.

5 Responses to “Riding the crazy train.”

  1. D
    October 10th, 2004 13:21

    It’s a man thing. We are genetically programed to “fix” things.

  2. Ms. Pants
    October 10th, 2004 13:45

    The upshot is that this is ammo for the rest of your life.
    –”I’m going to fix the toilet.”
    –”Honey, remember when you tried to ‘fix’ the toilet? Let’s just call someone who knows what they’re doing.”

    You’ll also be able to use this to get what you want for a while.
    –”Go get me some ice cream.”
    –”I just got in the house!”
    –”And I’ve been in the house all day doing what you were supposed to. Go get me some motherfucking ice cream.”

    Or you could go out with crazy eye and hair to match, baby on your hip, and let him know he’s the center of next week’s meeting with the crazy doctor. I’ve never had a baby, but that one always drove my mother nuts.

  3. feisty girl
    October 10th, 2004 15:39

    So funny. Coat hanger? Sheesh.

  4. Robotnik
    October 10th, 2004 19:37

    Oi! Don’t listen to that “Ammo for the rest of your life” advice. Marriage/relationships don’t last if you use ammo. the rest of your life.

    Your g.d. stories are too damn spooky–because they mirror my life: just this morning I got up bright and early to “fix the leaky toilet.” After about 4 hrs of tearing up my hands, and back and forth to Lowe’s for tools and shite I didn’t have in the house–I cut the water supply, and decided to call a feckin’ plumber. I agree with you–don’t feckin’ ATTEMPT to fix anything if you’re not even the least bit handy. And I’m not. I do two things pretty well: I write, and I drink.

    And so…I’m sticking to that.

  5. Shylah
    October 10th, 2004 22:11

    Hahahahah.. his hands as a funnel! That brings forth such a I’m-a-man-and-I-swear-I-can-do-it-or-at-least-pretend-I-can image that I choked on a cheeto.

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