Sunday, September 28, 2008

Moving sucks Part Deux

Husband has these crappy 80's dressers that he loooooves. I think they are tacky and dated and have plastic fake wood overlay(which is true and they are pretty fugly). He insists that is such nice furniture, 'I don't understand why you don't like it', as though this is an offense to him. So we're moving. We go to new digs, MIL house, the other day to check out 12x12 bedroom which already has like 3 dressers in it. This women has enough crap to start a Salvation Army I swear! So I decide the best fit, even though I think it's fugly, is Husband's beloved dresser set. I fucking give in, right? What a nice wife I am. Part of the decision was the dressing table piece has a nice big mirror that attaches to back I can use as make-up mirror, everybody wins.

Or so I thought.

This morning he starts moving things. I hang back at the house to finish up packing, throwing clothing in bags etc. I call him to remind him to call friends, who are helping, that he needs to wait to hear from u-haul and he'll call them when ready(again-I call him to remind him to call friends...of his...who are helping...). He's annoyed u-haul hasn't called with a pick up time. Then he says 'let's just use the dressers that are in the room already' and ' I don't know what to do with the dressers we moved, I don't know where to put them'. REALLY? You can't figure this out? We had a friggin plan, there was giving in on my part, compromise. Now he wants to use whatever crap is in the room because he doesn't want to move things around. 'Mom's asleep, I don't know where I should put stuff, I'm just gonna leave it outside'. IN THE RAIN! I gave you a fucking blow job last night with specific instructions that you fucking grow a pair today and be happy and do your manly duty of moving us and figuring shit out. GROW A HAIRY SET!

5 comments:

only a movie said...

aaaah, you are funny. And surprisingly sane in an insane situation. Wish we could be down there helping out. Hang in there. love ya!

crone51 said...

ah.... this reminds me of the time we had a van all set for a moving day, or so I thought, only the husband had somehow managed to reserve it for the *wrong month* so we had no van and had to drive all over the county looking for one and our helpful burly guys had to leave and we ended up moving most of the furniture ourselves.

Cristin said...

He so doesn't deserve a BJ.

StarbuckBitch said...

he got off 3 times in 24 hours...friday-saturday..i should get a nobel fucking prize!

Kathy said...

He deserves the noBALL prize!! And really - no more BJ's for him until there are balls. If I were there, I'd help you. Really I would. :)