...you really wouldn't believe it. The thing I came home to. Really, truly, oh-my-gosh-what-happened-to-my-house time. The exterior I'm not going to mention, except that what wasn't dead (lawn) was overgrown (mostly weeds). I've spent today working on painting the trim, which was supposed to be taken care of, watering the lawn and battling the rosebushes. BUT...
...when I came through the door last night after my trip through the nothing of Wyoming, the inside of the house looked like a tornado had hit it. (It still mostly does, since I mostly worked outside today.) Seriously, there was barely any room for one person to walk in here. And the beds and other surfaces were covered with... stuff. Junk, toys, old clothes that were in the basement... just stuff.
So here we are, at bedtime, greeted by TM wearing a bathrobe and offering the kids cupcakes, while I try to clear space for them to sleep. The month's mail was on the dining table, unopened. Including our utility bill, which is 10 days overdue, and all our other bills. There was something unidentifiable in the kitchen sink; it had obviously been rotting there for at least a couple of weeks. And the only milk in the fridge was long past its date.
Here's what you really won't believe. Even when I looked around at the disaster, smelled the atrociousness, and had to fight for a place to step, I did not actually turn around and say, "I cannot live in this filth!"
But I did think it really loud.
It's like he wants me to leave him for good next time.
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(You do believe me, don't you?)
Still living in interesting times
(You do believe me, don't you?)
Who Is Scone?
- Scone
- Mountain West, United States
- This is not my beautiful house... This is not my beautiful life...
Cast and Crew
- The Man (TM) = My husband
- #1 Son = TM's son by his first wife, Satan; currently residing in Hades
- Pirate Boy = My first surviving baby, smart and wildly emotional
- Punkin Boy = Our youngest prodigy, a vivacious and imaginitive pseudo-redhead
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7 comments:
C'mon, give the guy a break. He's obviously just been working, like what? 80+ weeks? Right? That would excuse it, right?
lol. Maybe not even that.
But seriously, maybe I understand it. He goes from pampered husband who never has to think about it to "Dude, I'm virtually a bachelor!" who's stereotypically expected to not think about it. In the short span of time you were gone it's possible it was just barely starting to dawn on him that, "Man, maybe I should straighten up the place".
I mean, I think I'm a reasonably responsible guy and the few times Becky has taken off with the kids for multiple days (just to visit family . . . it's never been, "I'm pissed, I'm outta' here"), I totally let the chores go. I just get caught up in recreation I can't do when the family's here ("You mean I can spend all night gaming with my buddies Tuesday and Wednesday?!? Woo hoo!").
Granted, it's not exactly the same. I spent the night before she got back frantically cleaning so she wouldn't catch on to just how bad I let it get. I mean, I practically hadn't slept yet . . . what's one more night, right? But yeah, not taking even that little effort says something pretty poor about him. Sorry to hear it.
Wow! I'm so sorry that he did that to you. I would have been totally mad at him and said something.
from your description it sounds like he purposly made the place messier. I don't understand that. maybe he's depressed.
hugs
Yeah, that's just it, Renee; the house was clean when I left (reasonably so) and when I got back, there was junk dragged up from the basement and in from Craigslist and who knows where else, and it was all over the darn place. If it was just a matter of letting the chores go a bit, it wouldn't have mattered (well, except for that colony of aliens in the kitchen sink).
And I only wish he'd been working full-time, Jack. There was one 40-hour week in there. But even so, it still wouldn't be such a big deal if he hadn't promised to do certain things while I was gone-- and told me during my trip that he was actually doing them (like getting the mail, paying bills, painting and cleaning the house). And then this. Gack.
Sylvia said...
I talked to TM the night before you got home for about an hour. I called to talk to you but you weren't there. Our conversation reminded me of the TM that was originally in there, not the one that has taken over. I still don't believe it's hopeless but where the next footfall is- I just can't tell.
Love you so much and wish you weren't hurting. I miss the happy pain-free Scone. Willey handcart company survivor extraordinaire.
You can make that kind of a mess without any kids around? I didn't know that was possible...
I'm sorry, that would really make me sad/mad/hurt, too.
Sylvia: I discovered what caused the Jekyll/Hyde reaction: he stopped taking his medication just about as soon as I left. He's sometimes civil still, but often not. And doesn't see it, himself. Scary stuff.
Hugs, Scone.
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