Rarely do I post stories here that are completely true and are not riddled with fiction. However, some of the things that occur in Dacialand are stranger (and much more entertaining) than fiction. Tonight, my husband and I were discussing gifts.
He won a really nice set of Nike golf clubs from work and as his wife; I feel that I am completely entitled to having them. Since he already has a nice set of clubs, he doesn’t want to keep the new set. His rebuttal is that he wants to sell the Nike’s and get the cash because he earned them. The golf clubs are now an issue of pride because I would rather go out and buy myself a new set of $1,000 clubs (and pay the tax AND be inconvenienced) than hand that money over to my own friggin husband so he can upgrade the accessories on his truck. But I digress…
Tonight, while discussing gifts, the following dialogue happened between my husband and I:
“Honey, do you remember back when we were really in love?” I ask, as I bat my lush eyelashes.
“Not really,” He grunts as he puts his hand down his pants while sitting on the sofa.
“Oh! Well, I was referring to when you would have a rough week at work and I would surprise you with a 6-pack of mirror pond, a king size Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup, and a mushy card.” I look at him hopeful that he will remember how sweet I have been to him over the years. My husband turns thoughtful as his brows crease trying to remember the blissful memories.
Finally, he perks up.
“Well, now you just get yourself a bottle of wine and yell at me all night!”
And so it is. We still love each other, but the one thing I have learned is that liking each other is a whole different situation. He seemed to have liked me yesterday. Today though, I think he would prefer that I have a glass of wine. That at least gives him a 50/50 chance of a nice evening.
My plot to get the clubs is far from over. I just need a new plan of action.
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