Because I Aim To Please

I know it’s no longer Valentine’s day. I also remember that I already wrote a post on search terms.  Bear with me. This post is especially for my new pal. Well, not so much pal as person who wound up here after searching “What to expect for Valentine’s day from my passive aggressive husband.” Now you understand why I am compelled to write this.

A box of fat-free chocolates – because, well, you know.

A gym membership – though you have never once mentioned wanting to join a gym. See above.

Racy underwear – in the wrong size. From Wal-mart.

A Valentine’s card with someone else’s name on it 

A lovely flower arrangement -containing poison ivy and  a sprig of hemlock

A candlelit dinner – from Paco’s All-You-Can-Eat Sushi Stand

A bottle of wine – the best that Boone’s Farm has to offer

A charm bracelet – from a vending machine

A bag of candy – containing the nuts you’re deathly allergic to

A vacuum  cleaner – because the one you have obviously isn’t working very well

A box of tiny chocolates – with the words “Ex-lax” stamped on the top of each candy

A new cordless drill – Just like he’s you’ve been hoping for

I didn’t post this on Valentine’s day because all of your lovely surprises might have been ruined. You’re welcome.


Nearly Wordless Wednesday: The Truth About Us

I hate socks. Wearing them is great. Matching them is a pain. Someone gave Squish twelve pairs of precious little construction socks. And every pair is different. Why do they hate me? Don’t answer that.

Here’s what the kid is wearing today. And please ignore the dog hair. We’re hoping to clone Phoebe, and she is obliging by providing DNA. Lots and lots of it.

In my defense, these two vehicles are going to the same work-site. This is a matched pair in my book.



Your Comprehensive Guide to Passive Aggression, Vol. 1

I have learned something in the nearly seventeen years of my marriage. My husband isn’t perfect. And…wait for it…neither am I. There are times when we get on one another’s nerves and I’d like to feed his running shoes to a pack of wild wolves, and he’d like to paint mustaches on all of my Severus Snape action figures. But we don’t. Because marriage is about working things out. So we do. Eventually.

But what do you do in the interim, between the wishing you could back over them with the car and the kiss-and-make-up? I’m so glad you asked.


Serve them homemade chili the night before their big meeting. To take it to the next level, cook the beans in the water you soaked them in. I must warn you. There will be collateral damage. Make sure your own calendar is clear. And plan to leave your windows open at night. Methane poisoning is an ugly way to die.

Send their sandwich in a Justin Bieber lunch box.

Erase their entire musical library. Replace it with the sound tracks to “Titanic”  and “The Aristocats.” If those particular musical offerings are already on there, I really can’t help you.

When serving banana splits, don’t give them any of the chocolate ice cream. I know. This one is almost too mean. I am sorry you had to see that side of me.

Use their email address to sign up for on-line catalogs. Toys R Us, Wal-mart, Hickory Farms, candidates with opposite political leanings.

Wash their favorite undergarments in scalding water. Dry on high heat for three hours. Hope for a bit of shrink. If you’re feeling particularly vindictive, don’t use fabric softener. This one is not particularly environmentally friendly, so save it for the big stuff. Polar bears shouldn’t suffer because they left a toilet seat up/down.

Turn off their side of the electric mattress cover. Cold shoulder = cold all over.

Use their favorite coffee mug. For an added twist, pretend you don’t realize it’s their favorite. Serve their coffee in a substandard container and say “I know you prefer this cup.” They will spend their morning trying to figure out if you are being the better person or the turd.

Blow out their birthday candles. But don’t take their wish. There are lines that should never be crossed.


Or you could just say you’re sorry. But in order for apologies to sound sincere, it’s necessary to remember what  the transgression actually was. And everyone knows that the first rule for a happy marriage is to never keep score.

Titanic? You have GOT to be kidding me! What did I ever do to you?