(no subject)
This is like the stupidest thing ever to get upset about but I'm annoyed that I bought a brand new outfit for my son to wear as a sheep in the Christmas pageant, because they told me there were grey sheep hats left so I bought a grey outfit because it was easier to find than white which they said was the other color that was left over to pick from.
There were no grey sheep heads. At all. There was black, and white.
So he wore a grey outfit with a white head. I'm a little bit OCD about these kinds of things but it just looks dumb. Yes, he is only 6 and yes this was 2 days after the CT massacre and we were lucky to have our kids safe and sound and doing a Christmas pageant. But I look at the pictures and just...ugh.
It's like when I get into bed and I know that the wrong end of the top sheet is at my head (you know the end that has the narrow hem instead of the thick one that's supposed to go at the head of the bed EVERYONE BUT MY HUSBAND KNOWS THIS, RIGHT??)
Yes yes, I should make the bed myself. I do some things myself, after my husband has done them. I go back and fix it and I don't say a word for weeks because I'm a little saint and then oops, I get mad about something else and I let the fact slip that I go and rearrange the dishwasher after he loads it.
I know I'm the lunatic in the family, but I'm HIS lunatic and he should be accomodating of that.
I'm going in for a procedure on Jan. 10 to get rid of some bladder stones and he has to pick me up and take me home and stay with me the day after, because I'm being put under and I need someone with me for 24 hours after. This should be interesting. He's never really had to take care of me like that, except when I had my c-section which wasn't all that bad because I recovered so quickly from that. And we had a baby, of course, that I needed to tend to so I couldn't be completely helpless. But this....I'm so milking this for what it's worth.
There were no grey sheep heads. At all. There was black, and white.
So he wore a grey outfit with a white head. I'm a little bit OCD about these kinds of things but it just looks dumb. Yes, he is only 6 and yes this was 2 days after the CT massacre and we were lucky to have our kids safe and sound and doing a Christmas pageant. But I look at the pictures and just...ugh.
It's like when I get into bed and I know that the wrong end of the top sheet is at my head (you know the end that has the narrow hem instead of the thick one that's supposed to go at the head of the bed EVERYONE BUT MY HUSBAND KNOWS THIS, RIGHT??)
Yes yes, I should make the bed myself. I do some things myself, after my husband has done them. I go back and fix it and I don't say a word for weeks because I'm a little saint and then oops, I get mad about something else and I let the fact slip that I go and rearrange the dishwasher after he loads it.
I know I'm the lunatic in the family, but I'm HIS lunatic and he should be accomodating of that.
I'm going in for a procedure on Jan. 10 to get rid of some bladder stones and he has to pick me up and take me home and stay with me the day after, because I'm being put under and I need someone with me for 24 hours after. This should be interesting. He's never really had to take care of me like that, except when I had my c-section which wasn't all that bad because I recovered so quickly from that. And we had a baby, of course, that I needed to tend to so I couldn't be completely helpless. But this....I'm so milking this for what it's worth.