A True Rant

Oh My God, I hate my husband at this moment.

We still have the big pavilion up from Bea's party this past weekend, and yesterday I asked him if we should be taking the cover down, at least, because today its supposed to be gale force winds bringing in a big-ass storm.

Naturally, women never can read a radar screen, or put two and two together, so my question was pooh-poohed. "Oh, it won't be anything to worry about," he assured me.

So here it is, Wednesday, and the frigging wind is taking the whole tent-thing up in the air, shoving it into the side of the house, and catching plant hooks that hang from the soffit.

How about now, honey? Would now be a good time to take the GD thing down? Now that you're at work, and I have to be back at school in an hour - yeah, that's the perfect time, isn't it?

Guess what I did on my lunch break? That's right - took down a giant 20' plus tent, all by my lonesome.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...adrenaline is a powerful thing - I got that sucker down faster by myself, than it took the three men to put it up. Nothing like rage to impel you.

Ask me if I'm making dinner tonight...go ahead, ask me.

Aloha from Mom Hell

Okay, so its past time to leave for school - I haven't brushed my hair, or put on shoes, and I start looking around for my carkeys. As usual, they've been relocated in the night (not by me) and aren't really turning up. I'm getting cranky with the kids, because they figure this is a great excuse to go back to what they were doing before it was time to go to school.

Running out of places to look, and tired of circling the house, I call the husband-guy, to see if he can elucidate my search. I know, this is a long shot, but I'm desperate at this point. If we're any later, I'm going to have to put on real shoes, a bra, and brush my hair, so I look half-way respectable when I sign them in as tardy.

My darling spouse says he has no idea where I might have put my keys, and by the way? Good luck with that. This is how I look when I'm on the phone with him:

Yes, I DO know that my roots are showing - did I ASK you to point out the freaking obvious? No? Well sit down then!

Okay, so Pookie has been a complete lack of help in locating the errant keys, and I start circling the house again, in a last ditch effort, before I have to resign myself to getting dressed and having to take my kids to the office, which, I feel, puts me at a disadvantage in dealing with the staff for the rest of our tenure at this school. Crazy lady shit? Maybe...but again, did I ask? Is this helping me to find the GD keys?

Finally, I look in my old purse, which is hanging on the back of the kitchen door. I haven't used this purse in almost a year, so I know I would never put my keys in it, but I live with 3 men - rank thoughtlessness is a daily occurrence around here.

Guess what is in my old purse?
That's right! My freaking keys are in my old purse! That means that Mr. Helpful, aka, my husband, must have put them there, but because it wasn't involving a sporting event, (Yes, dammit, I AM bitter!) he couldn't remember that he had done it. This is how I looked after I found them:
So I got the kids off to school, without having to brush my hair, put on a bra, or take off my nummy fleece slippers, for which I am very grateful, but you better believe, mud will be flung tonight!

That, and I think it might be time for a little hair dye, eh wot? (don't answer that, I'm still cranky about the muffin keys.....!)