This is what Im up against

Anymore, a typical conversation with my wife goes like this:

Let me set the scene. We've just left church, the oldest boy is hungry (as am I), and the youngest is about to fall asleep, but may want food soon too. We decide to stop off at Wendys before going home. In the middle of the van is a coolerbag. It has in it a sippy cup of milk for the baby.

Me: Hey, what should we do with the bag?
Wife: It has the baby's milk in it.
Me: Are we taking it in? I know that we are out of food jars, so there's none packed for him.
Wife: Well, as soon as he sees us eating normal food, he'll want some of ours, so don't worry about it.

Me: So, do we bring it or not?
Wife: I have milk in THIS SIPPY CUP right there, and a second cup just in case. (She points to the sippy cup in the bag...that Im holding).
Me: I know what the hell a sippy cup looks like, and I can tell all by myself which one has milk in it (and which one is empty). What the hell do you want me to do with it? Bring it in?
Or leave it in the car for later?
Wife: I already told you...bring it in (feel free to reread the above....you'll notice that not once did she ever tell me to bring it in. That was my original question..instead of an answer, I get a story, an idiots show and tell about what a sippy cup looks like, and a lesson on how to determine which of 2 identical items contains a liquid, and which contains only air).

Me: You never said one way or the other

Wife: That was the first thing I told you..to bring it in.

Me: Ok fine...you said it, I was ignorant and wasn't listening to you. It MUST be my fauilt, cause I KNOW Im the one who's always wrong.

Wife: (Just a disgusted look on her face.)

Me: (No further comment...but I felt like saying ' No need to start a fight...I wasn't going to ask for sex tonight anyways')

We go inside the Wendy's and she acts like it never happened. But then the moron behind the counter asks for it. I order a burger, and ask that they not overcook the meat. I don't like my meat chargrilled..If I can throw it at you , and kill you, you have burned it.

Me: I'd like a piece of meat that isn't over cooked please.
Manager: (dumb blank look)
Me: Not burnt please.
Manager: Well...um, you see the grill is already set to a certain temperature.
Me: And??
Manager: They meat gets cooked all the same way.
Me: Bullshit. You have a grill, and someone who is going to set a spachula on the meat and press it like the HULK, thereby squishing it to death , and overcooking it. Don't let em do it. How do ya'll say it?...."NO CHILE MEAT"
Manager: Same dumb look.
Me: Do what you're gonna do.
Manager: You mean the single (burger)?
Me: Nah, I meant the Frosty. Please don't burn the frosty. Of COURSE I meant the burger! What the hell else were we just talking about??

The food ended up being very good..neither the meat OR the Frosty was overcooked.


We get home, and I plan on taking Logan out back and making a fire. I have a pile of branches and leaves that needs to go, and I told him we'd go out back and make big hot fire. He was thrilled. But he forgot. He starts taking off his shoes. I tell him to leave them on, but he strips anyways. No biggie. It's about 8:30-9pm, and haven't not had a nap today, I figure he'll be asleep in a matter of a few minutes.

He stayed up till 11pm. Hung right in there till the credits of the Harry Potter movie that we were watching. And he wouldn't lay on the couch with the wife...he wanted to lay on the floor with me. By 11, I was hungry again, and still needed to set the Pile'o'leaves ablaze outback.

The very minute that Logan falls asleep (and the wife has been asleep for some time now), the baby wakes and and starts crying. I leave Logan on the floor and get the baby. I rock the baby back to sleep, then go transfer Logan to his bed.

I spend about an hour or less outback with the fire.....it burned, I got board, so I hosed the embers and came inside. The second that I get to the kitchen, the baby cries again. THis time, the wife got up to get him, but she brings him back to the livingroom and lays with him on the couch. The light from the kitches shines directly ON the couch, so I'm screwed to making something to eat.

A Yahoo dads group that I belong to has a member with a unique tag line at the bottom of all of his emails. "The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother". I hope there's more to it than that. Try cuddling with a porquipine, and you'll see what I'm up against. Maybe I should get a TV made that says " No, I don't get any...she'd rather kiss a Wookie".

At my wedding ceremony, I remember a part that said " Till death do us part". Does that mean when I'm dead, I'm free to date?

Shannon