I am seriously tired of being the bad cop in my house.  Come on my kids are wonderful but they aren’t perfect!!!  Why does my husband think that its ok to come home at night and act that way?  They could have driven me insane all day.  He walks in and they are perfect.  Why does he get to be the good cop?

Monkeyboy was swinging from the fan last week but he’s perfect.

Monkeyboy poured water all over my hardwood floors today…but he’s perfect.

Pumpkin knocked Monkeyboy down five times..but she’s perfect.

Well guess what??? I’m not perfect.  I’m not the perfect mom.  I don’t clean sometimes.  I don’t cook that great!  My kids eat cereal for dinner when I want.  I feed my kids spaghetti even though my husband hates it.  I get mad.  I get even too.  At least I get even when my husband acts like I’m just exaggerating the situation.  I went on strike!  I got up looked at him.  You know what he did this morning again???  He woke me up for no reason.  Pumpkin didn’t have to go in today.  We had a doctor’s appointment and he knew it.  He woke me up anyway. 

Told me to get up and start cleaning or some such nonsense.  This time…ladies and gents.. you will be proud of me.  I looked at him and said, “You stay home, big Idiot.  I’m not doing a thing today.  I’m on strike!”

He laughed at me and left.  HE LAUGHED AT ME.  Oh I was mad.  Ok let’s get real here.  I am not going to NOT feed my kids so I did do that.  I did take Pumpkin to the doctors.  I let them have the run of the house all day.  Yes it drove me insane.  But its the principle at this point.

Ken walks in the door at night.  Looks around.  Looks at the kids.  Looks back at me.  I just looked at him.  I was sitting in my recliner.  He starts hollering about the mess.  Peck Peck Peck on the computer.  Then he starts hollering about the blog.  Peck Peck Peck.  Then he goes in the kitchen.  Yup no dinner.  Peck Peck Peck.  Looks over the counter at me.  “Can you get up and make dinner?”  Peck Peck Peck “NO, I’M ON STRIKE!”  Peck Peck Peck.

“You can’t be on strike!”

“Oh YES I can.  Fend for yourself!” and I sailed out the door.  Going to spend his money at Borders!!!

Man sometimes this blog is better than therapy.