If I were a man, my kids would stink!

 

What the hell is wrong with men? I am shocked over and over at how much women do versus their husbands. We all know it, we all complain about it, and yet it still remains.

 

The passive aggressive version of the man I married is getting to me. When I ask you to do something (he would argue that I “tell” - semantics), just tell me "I may half ass it, if I get around to it next Tuesday, maybe."  At least if you told me "Hey, screw you, I’m not going to do it," I would know that it’s not going to happen. My ignorance to reality lets me run down the path of thinking hey, he has all day, surely it will get done today. I just don’t get why men think that they don’t have to do anything that isn’t super F’n fun.

 

So, today I am living like I am a man, and if I were a man… 

• My kids would never have their hair washed (EVER). He just refuses this part of giving the kids a bath.

• I would have a beer with the boys whenever the hell I feel like it. 

• I would never screw with homework or reading with the kids.  Ah, they’ll figure it out.

•  I would leave in the morning as soon as the clock hit 7 no matter how much still needed to happen to get 2 kids out the door- oh, the wife has it. 

• I would have no freaking idea how to clean a tub, a floor, a cabinet, or a dish.  In fact, I would have no idea where a single cleaning product resides. 

• I have no idea what the kids eat. Hey, I might feed em’ but screw paying attention, I’ll just call the wife- she’ll know what to do. 

• To hell with yard work- that’s no fun. We’ll outsource that. 

• I would never wipe my ass or anyone else’s, because for the life of me, I can’t locate the industrial size container of toilet paper. (I’ve received multiple calls at work from the hubby looking for TP, which has been housed in the same utility closet since we moved to the house 6 years ago.) 

• The grocery store, what the hell is that?

•  Our bills- no idea, the wife handles that. 

• Taxes, huh, what do you mean? You have to file taxes? Seriously? Every year? No thanks!  Call my wife. 

• I’d drive a truck that doesn’t have room for a car seat..it doesn’t matter my wife picks up the baby (why do I need a car seat?). 

• Vacation plans? I’d show up, and most likely bitch about something that was planned, but hey as long as I can get a beer when we get there, I’m good.

•  I have no idea where, why or what about just about anything around the house and that’s the way I’d like it. 

• Oh, and I would scratch and fart with complete irreverence for my fellow house mates.

• And after my wife took care of all that crap and tumbled into bed exhausted, I'd still have the nerve to ask her if she wanted to get naked for me!
  

Ah, it's good to be the man . . . with a great wife!