Saturday, June 20, 2009

I Thought This Dude Was Supposed to be Fabulous?

Here is an upfront warning: this post is full of annoyances about my husband. Let me clarify, these annoyances are all (kind of) jokes and in good fun. I am always very cautious about what I write on here about my husband because 1) people who know us in RL read this blog and 2) I would not ever want to dishonor him in my writing to RL friends or strangers. He is truly, a fabulous dude. But...

This fabulous dude TICKS me off. I work out way way way way way way more often than him and still he is in way way way way way way better shape than I (Annoyance #1). Granted, his job requires extensive physical labour so he is getting a workout on a day to day basis but still, I make so much of an effort to ensure that I am being active daily and still, he just glides on by like nothing's going on. When we go for a walk (and I mean a heavy duty, get your heart rate up walk), he wears sandals. When we go hiking at the conservation area and my feet are tired and cramped by the end, he's still wearing sandals. And, when if we go for a run, he is barely out of breath when we finish while I feel as though I am on the brink of death very tired.

To top it all of, last night, we went for a bike ride. A really, really, really long bike ride. We rode into town, stopped to visit with a few friends, rode to the bank and the movie store and then rode home. By the time we were on the last stretch towards home, I really started pushing myself. I was peddling hard and beginning to feel the pain. By the way, I think I forgot to mention, the fabulous dude was wearing, you got it, sandals. At one point in the midst of my agony and struggle for breath, I looked over at him to see if he was working as hard as I was.

If only I had my camera there to show you evidence of what I saw. There, beside me, was my sweet dear husband, riding effortlessly with no hands on the handles bars, weaving around the road resembling a uni-cycle rider in the circus. I slowed down and said to him, "You know, it makes me feel really bad when we're exercising together and I'm pushing myself with all my strength to keep going and you just float along as though you aren't even expending one ounce of energy".

He responded by saying, "That doesn't really make you feel bad." (Annoyance #2). Recently he has developed this habit of telling me how I do or don't feel. At this point, I'm pretty sure he just does it to annoy me on purpose because he knows how much it irks me. I will say, "I think I want a snack". He will say "No you don't really want one". I will say, "I would love it if you could do the dishes tonight". He will say, "No you wouldn't really love that." I say, "I'm bored". He says, "You're not bored." Get the point?

Back to the story ... so he tells me that it doesn't really make me feel bad when I'm working hard and he's just sailing along in his sandals. Of course, this just gets me even more ticked (Please note: stubbornness and competitiveness are two of my finest qualities). So I yell some kind of "Arghhh noise" and pedal harder. At this point, we were getting quite close to the road on which we would turn up to go towards home. He slows down to turn and I yell, "I'm not riding with you, I'll go the other way." This will show him, I thought, as I began to peddle faster and harder. I will ride as hard as I can and beat him home, that way he'll see that I am a good bike rider.

Within a few seconds, I hear something coming up behind me. I look to my left and what do I see? There he is, effortlessly zooming past me, sitting up straight, flapping his arms like a chicken and looking quite proud of himself. He turned around after going up the road and was still able to catch up with me, even with no hands on the handlebars. I could have killed him in that moment.

And this morning, I am struggling to move because my legs and butt are so sore. And him? He's working and feelin' fine. Arggh ... how annoying.

Now that I have vented all my frustrations, I feel much better. I'm off to wash three weeks worth of Tupperware that the FD finally brought home from work yesterday (Annoyance #3....)

I love you, dear.

14 comments:

Becky said...

This just made my day. Thanks.

Aunt Shelley said...

Oh Lucy...how I can relate. Last week's tupperware event entailed Mr T laughing about the smell in the kitchen as I loaded the dishwasher while gagging and turning blue from holding my breath...maybe someday he'll make my lunch...PS we still want to take you guys to the steakhouse...we need to set a date

Taryn said...

I totally laughed out loud reading this. So loud that Chris (from the other room) asked me what was so funny. What was so funny? The part where FD tells you how you feel. And the part where you say that stubbornness and competitiveness are some of your finest qualities (mine as well) and lastly- when FD zooms by you arms flapping. You guys are so funny.

P.S. Your plan to bold more numbers sounds just perfect!

Jill said...

too cute!

Snow White said...

funny.

Cristina said...

Oh my gosh...my husband does the same thing with the tupperwear, I buy the ziplock containers now so I don't get that upset when they go missing and I toss them out when they come home green! hahaha

Kristen said...

oh this makes me laugh! :)

Sunshinemeg said...

Just stumbled across your blog and this had me laughing the whole time. Great blog.

Sassenachs in Scotland said...

Clearly FD had a better bike than you.

Brittany Ann said...

Men. Seriously, if we didn't love them so much...

Lucky in Love said...

Husband...they sure are a treat :)

Jessica said...

I'm glad I'm not the only one that has all three of those exact same annoyances!

C said...

I love this Lucy! We have the exact same problem! I can't tell you how many times I've felt this way!!

Holly said...

Well, I work very hard at avoiding working out, so I can't commiserate on that point, but I'm with you on the Tupperware. If he's going to keep them at the office for three weeks, the least he could do is rinse them out when he's done with them. I'm just sayin'.