Yesterday for MammaKat's writing assignment, one of the prompts was to write about a pet peeve. My first thought was...
Pet peeve, Shmet peeve...I don't have one. I'm cool. I'm chill. I'm laid back. Shit just rolls off of me like water off a duck's back.
Well, I DO have a pet peeve and this is it: I can't stand it when people pretend to listen to you, but aren't really listening. They throw in obligatory "uh-huh's" and "dang's" and "damn, that sucks" and "really's" at all the appropriate places, but you know good and well that they haven't heard one word that you've said. I think it's rude and disrespectful and personally, it makes me feel like what I'm saying isn't important enough for you to pause the fucking basketball game and at least look me in the eyes while you're pretending to listen to me, HONEY!
It's been a while since I've thrown The One "under the bus". Well...I hear the brake's squealing and can see the front of the big yellow thing heading this way...so, baby...the bus is here, let's do this thing!
He never listens to me. He knows it...and bless his heart...he does try. He does this thing where he repeats the last few words I said to give the illusion that he actually followed along in whatever I was talking about.
Like he could be at the computer and I could walk up and hypothetically say, "OMG, honey, today...the doorbell rings and it was the super hot UPS guy...by the way., that thing you ordered came in...anyway, super hot guy, so I invite him in. All the kids are at school...so he and I have wild, hot sex right on the kitchen counter. Not much chit-chat...he leaves and on his way out I tell him, 'I appreciate your service.'" And my dear sweet husband who has a very good short term memory will peel his eyes away from the computer long enough to smile, nod, maybe give me a little fake laugh and say, "I appreciate your service...cool." Then he's right back to whatever-the-hell he was doing!
Part of the reason it makes me so crazy is that all day...every day...I'm expected to drop whatever it is I'm doing and tend to the needs and whims of EVERYONE in this house. Like:
The One Who Knows Everything wants to tell me...very loudly, I might add...every single thing he's thinking and/or doing so as to be the center of attention at all times. To which I want to say, "WILL YOU SHUT YOUR FRIGGIN PIE HOLE FOR ONE SECOND AND LET THERE BE SILENCE FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE." But, I
The One Who Doesn't Say Much wants to play a game of Crazy 8's, or Memory, or Go Fish, or...God help me...her Hannah Montana trivia game. To which I want to yell, "NO...SWEETIE...I HATE HANNAH MONTANA, I SUCK AT MEMORY, I DON'T EVEN REMEMBER ALL THE RULES TO GO FISH AND...CRAZY 8'S...WELL, THAT'S KINDA FUN, BUT I'M BUSY RIGHT NOW!" Instead I say, "Sure, babe...you pick."
The One Who Gets Away With Murder wants to tell me about, "that part...in that movie...where the guy...he goes like this **TOWGAWM jumps, or shoots, or does sound effects, or flips, or all of the above**...and then that other guy was like this **he does some other crazy motion**...no, wait that wasn't it...the guy went like this **this time he nails whatever he was trying to do**...yeah like that...then they were like, 'whoa'...and then he punches the guy right in the face...ya 'member that part?" And I want to scream at the top of my lungs, "YEAH, YEAH, YEAH...I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR STUPID BOY MOVIE NOW BEAT IT KID." But, I refrain...and stop, turn towards my boy and do my best to follow along in the tales he spins.
The One...well, I'll skip the details...but, he wants what he wants and I want to yell, "OH YEAH RIGHT, FUCK FACE...NOW YOU'RE GONNA PAY ATTENTION TO ME. NOW THAT I'M NAKED...YOU'RE HANGING ON EVERY EFFING WORD!!" However, I actually say..."You must've read my mind, baby, because that's just what I wanted to do."
That just gave me an idea...maybe I should drop trou and show him my tits every time I talk to him. Maybe he'd pay a little more attention then!