I love my husband Doug very much. That’s a really good thing, because if I didn’t I’d probably have whacked him in the head with a skillet by now today. We were scheduled to work an event Friday night thru Sunday. It was cancelled. That put a huge crimp in our finances. Therefore, I wasn’t expecting a dozen long stem roses, a champagne dinner and a diamond ring today. (Not that I ever do). But what I did expect was a “Good morning. Happy Birthday. I love you.” It’s almost 4pm, still waiting. No card, no note, no nothing. Since Doug was raised by an emotionally constipated mother, pronouncements of love are few and far between.
Now, having been with this man for so long I know how he thinks. If he can’t get something really nice for me, he’ll just skip it. Entirely. We’ve been over this before. I understand. I really do. Being self-employed our finances go up and down like an EKG. Doug’s still waiting on a sizable sum from all the work in Dallas. The little events here keep us going between infusions of cash from there. But the events this week got cancelled. So here we are.
He has done this exact thing before. I told him then I’d be OK with a hand-made card or a even note, but nothing? Not OK. Breakfast in bed or a massage (one that he didn’t turn into sex) costs nothing. Just what is the deal? Now, I shouldn’t have said he did absolutely nothing. Noonish today he did mention that he’d clean the whole house for me if I could just give him some “incentive”. That’s what I mean about being married to a crackhead. Is he on crack? For only a crackhead would think suggesting that to me at that moment would be a good thing.
So, I’ve been upset most of the day- in stretches. Both Evelyn and Amanda called to wish me a Happy Birthday. When they called I cried for just a bit. And I wasn’t crying because I was sad. I was crying because I was PO’d. I’m better now. I know it’s silly to make such a big thing out of a birthday when you’re so old that if they lit all the candles on your cake the fire department would be called. By tomorrow I’ll be back to normal again, whatever that is for me. I plan on going out then and buying myself a cake. Is Doug the only guy that has a learning disability when it comes to his wife?
BTW-In the interest of full disclosure I must say that Doug doesn’t do crack or any other drugs, never has.
The last time I felt ugly about “nobody” remembering my birthday I vowed that would never happen again. I make up my mind early on before my next 33rd birthday ( coff coff ) and I set my own plan into motion. That way if somebody special remembers, it’s all gravy and I don’t get my feelings hurt or feel forgotten.
My dad had a comical way of getting his birthday on everybody’s radar: He would ask EVERYONE, “Do you have plenty of cash? Do you need my wish list? Is there any shopping I can help you with?” While he did it with good humor, we ALL got the point and nobody ever forgot his special occasions. It didn’t hurt that his birthday coincided with America’s, either!
Husbands, let’s face it. can be problematic. grin But ya gotta love em.
By the way, Happy UNbirthday, Michele.
xo
Mother Connie
You know what’s so frustrating? I didn’t really need or want anything special. Just one simple sentence would’ve been enough; but his pride got in the way. You’re right though. Next year I’m going to hire a skywriter the day before so at least I’ll get my sentence. Anyway, I’m over it now. Life’s too short to stay mad for long. Thanks for being there for me.