Bless His Heart

6 Mar

If you are from the south, you know that “Bless your/his/her heart” is usually just a way for Southerners to say something negative about someone without feeling guilty. It’s like saying “no offense” when you say something offensive or a way of saying that you pity someone. For example:

“She is so naive, bless her heart.”

“She’s a homely looking child, bless her heart.”

“He’s a dumbshit, bless his heart.”

In this case, regarding my husband, it means, “It’s your birthday. I pity you because, if you don’t stop being a douchebag, it might be your LAST birthday.”

Because of the fact that I have no means of transportation right now, my plans to go get a cake and a sweet card–went out the window. Instead, I decided to deep clean the worst room in our house: The Bedroom. Listen, y’all, that room seriously gets neglected–I admit it. Whenever we are in the other rooms cleaning, one of us asks, “Hey, where does this go?”, and the other almost always responds, “Hell, I don’t know. Throw it in the bedroom and shut the door!!” It’s the catch-all. We also have a serious problem with coming home from vacation and, rather than unpacking, living out of our suitcase until..well..until we go on vacation again. Don’t judge me!

Anyway, so, I decide to deep clean it. Hubby is always bitching about not being able to find anything and we are always kicking suitcases in the middle of the night, so I thought it would be nice. I worked my ass off. I actually broke a sweat. I know, gross, right? Luckily, I found my super strong muscle relaxers while I was digging through things. I needed those after tackling that mess. My back was, no, is throbbing and I am exhausted. I phone Hubby to see if he wants me to order some Outback Steakhouse to-go. It’s one of his favorites, so I figured it was a win-win for all of us. He says that, no, he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t feel like having to stop to pick it up on the way home on his birthday. I explain that I am about dead and, since he needs help with his resume tonight, it would benefit us all. In comes the bitching…”Well, I don’t feel like stopping. I guess I will just come home and cook by myself on MY BIRTHDAY!” I’m all, “Dude, STFU. I didn’t ask you to come home and cook.” He bitches some more about me “whining” about my back aching (I’ve mentioned my bulging discs and arthritis, right?). I didn’t tell him about the bedroom initially– because I wanted to surprise him. However, at this point..I wanted to go sling shit around everywhere, completely destroying it, then yell, “Surprise, mutha fucka! Happy Birthday!” when he walked in, but decided against it.

Hubby gets home and starts moping around. I run out the door to get cake and come back as quickly as possible. When I return, the kids are telling me about how Daddy said he doesn’t even want cake. The fuck? The kids were so excited about getting him a cake and seeing him be excited. Jerk. Since his mood hadn’t improved and the bedroom door was still shut, I assumed he hadn’t been in there. I walk in the bedroom to put my purse down (I used his car key, by the way..because mine is still missing) and he walks in behind me. Finally! Maybe he will see what I have been doing all day, realize that I wasn’t bullshitting about being exhausted and in pain, and cheer up. He walks through the bedroom and goes into the bathroom without saying a word. I just sat there until he came out, thinking he would be all, “Wow!” on his way out. Nope. Not a single word. He just walked out. Just WALKED OUT.

The rest of the evening didn’t go any better. He continued to mope and wouldn’t eat dinner with us. I had to force him to come sit and let us sing Happy Birthday to him. My eyes had daggers shooting out of them at him. I wanted to yell, “Ever heard the song It’s My Party And I Can Be A Big Bitchy Baby If I Want To?! No? ME EITHER!”

Bless his heart, he might not make it through the night.

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13 Responses to “Bless His Heart”

  1. Tracy March 7, 2012 at 12:12 am #

    I’m sorry he was such a big puss on his birthday and all, but in a way I’m happy about it because this post just made me laugh so frickin’ hard! IT’S LIKE ALL MEN ARE CLONES! Sorry, non-clone men. It’s true for the most part. Unobservant as all hell and whiney like babies 😉

    • Undomesticated Housewife March 8, 2012 at 11:46 am #

      They really are. One day, I tell myself, one day..he will learn the error of his ways. We’ll see. lol

  2. Misty March 7, 2012 at 2:09 am #

    I can relate!

  3. Kelly March 7, 2012 at 9:47 am #

    The moping… they all do it the same way even. Sigh. That should make me feel better to know I am not alone. But sadly, it doesn’t. I laugh at your expense and then I am back to wondering… why me?? 😉

    • Undomesticated Housewife March 8, 2012 at 11:49 am #

      The moping is so pitiful. It makes me gag. lol Next time, I will tell him “Grow up! You have a gray hairs! I will point each of them out until you stop moping like a baby!”

  4. adamsdaughter March 7, 2012 at 11:01 am #

    Sounds like someone didn’t want to get birthday sex on his birthday…. To the dog house he goes!

  5. Shannon March 7, 2012 at 11:10 am #

    Let’s add this up. A male in the household expected his birthday to be the center of the universe, threw a hissy fit when he was asked to pick something up on his birthday, hissy fit continued and included the declaration of “fine, I don’t want any cake”, then he moped for the remainder of the evening. Are you sure we’re not talking about your four-year-old son?

  6. Leslie P. March 19, 2012 at 3:12 pm #

    OMG, I spat my Coke out reading that! It’s like you were inside my brain. Nice to know that some husbands can be so similar at times, as can wives’ reactions.

  7. olivegypsy April 26, 2012 at 12:04 am #

    I’ve been going back and reading some of your posts…and you crack me up!:)

  8. Shannon (@LdyLarke) May 4, 2012 at 3:26 am #

    I here to tell ya it NEVER gets better either lol. My man doesn’t have birthdays, it’s a damn birthWEEK. Month even. Short lived I might add coz he never gets away with it. lol

    But yeah, all men are the same this way. Tossing hissy fits better than any toddler haha

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