I have come to the unfortunate realization that, between D and I, I am the more difficult person to live with. This really shakes up the normal stereotype of a couple, where the wife is the one always putting up with her husband's quirks, patiently (and sometimes not so patiently) and lovingly doting on him as he muddles his way through life while she stands by, the rock who is always right.
Now I, of course, am always right, but that's one of the few things I share with the tv-and-50's wives before me. One of the other things we share is the fact that I'm the schedule and routine keeper in the relationship. If there is an event that D and/or I are attending (be it a birthday party or doctor's appointment), there is a strict process that must be followed.
Step one: Tell D as far in advace as possible, preferably 3 weeks to one month. Also write event on the calendar that D insisted we buy but refuses to check or even look at.
Step two: Two weeks out from said event, remind D.
Step three: One week out from event, remind again.
Step four: Remind D daily for the last 4 days before event.
Step five: When D still manages to forget, I am able to safely say, "Don't get mad at me, I told you about this." If any of these steps is skipped, I somehow am the one to blame for D forgetting.
Aside from these things, which I use to my greatest advantage and constantly rub in so my own flaws are minimized and ideally ignored, I'm a real pain in the butt wife.
Among D's chief complaints:
* I dig through laundry baskets of clean clothes instead of putting them away. After a few search and rescue missions, the laundry basket is a total mess and the clothes will inevitably be thought of as dirty and will be washed again. This drives D bonkers, and I suspect that he is one load of laundry away from insisting that I fold his clothes and place them in a different laundry basket.
* I am the messy one. I've written countless posts on this, so it should be pretty common knowledge by now. But it still is like a knife to my heart, because the wives are supposed to be the ones who complain about how messy their husbands are and how they constantly have to tidy up after them. When other women complain about this, I just nod my head silently in agreement as if I know what they're talking about. It's my not-so-secret shame: I'm a slob kebob.
* I slam things. Doors, toilet seats, scantily dressed hussies in church...you name it, I slam it. D equally hates both my physical and verbal slammings. But, I will tell you that by consistently slamming the toilet seat for a week, I taught him to put it down after he used the bathroom. I told him that if he refused to put it down, I'd put it down for him and he wouldn't like it. The verbal slammings, I wish he'd just get used to and play along with. It's not fun saying, "Can you believe she is dressed so sluttily?" when D is like, "Who cares and will you please shut up?" Really sucks the fun out of life. Fun sucker.
* I don't really cook. This one was D's own doing, though, so not so much my fault. If I understood how batting averages were calculated, I'd give you a batting average of all the new meals I've tried, but I don't. So I'll just tell you that I'm like 3 for 50 in the kitchen. Now he gets his way and we eat out a majority of the time. Or we just fend for ourselves. I really hope our kids are foodies so I can try new foods and not face a losing battle before I even begin. But with who they have for a dad, I'd say I'm on the wrong end of this sword.
* I watch the most ridiculous shows on TV, which I've also posted about. But I'm pretty sure that D likes some of the shows I watch. Because, for someone who relentlessly makes fun of most of them, he sure does seem to know a lot about the people or characters in them. Like The Bachelorette. If you were to ask him who he liked for the final rose, he'd be like "Um what?" But really, he'd be thinking, "Well, Chris L. is probably the best choice as far as husband material, but Ali and Roberto really seem to have a connection that just isn't there with Chris L."
So there you have it. Never let it be said that I don't have any perspective. I'm a pain in the butt and I know it. But D is also a pain in the butt, so therefore we are a perfect match. The world makes sense again.