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I’m my own worst enemy…and that’s the way I like it

May 2, 2006

All husbands should come equipped with nine lives instead of cats. That way we can kill them without remorse, over and over again. Is there a man is this world that really gets what its like to be the mom that works from home? Okay, so my writing career isn’t earning me enough to pay for a maid yet, but that doesn’t mean I’m not working my butt off. Today the pain in the ass (a.k.a Husband) comes home from work in a reasonably good mood. My two year old is in the midst of separation anxiety (read – I can’t even pee by myself without lots of crying and banging on the door) and trying to cook supper is horrible.
Husband/Ass says I should let him in the kitchen with me. Hmmmm. He’s two and he gets into EVERYTHING. Somehow that’s not a good idea. Husband then says, just teach him not to touch anything. Then he says I’m my own worst enemy by the way I handle this time of day. This is the part where I’m pretty sure my mouth fell open as I was thinking up multiple ways to murder him.

If every mother out there could so easily teach her child not to get into stuff, we’d have time to work three or four jobs without breaking a sweat. But that’s not how it works. If anyone knows a med that will allow a husband to realize that just because they think they could do it better if they were the ones home all day,they’re WRONG, please sign me up for a lifetime supply of the extra strength dose.

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