Karma’s a bitch
*This post contains graphic images*
This afternoon was not one of our better days. The straw that broke the camel’s back was catching Nathan stand on my laptop (it survived). That was followed by an entire batch of burnt pancakes for dinner (“mom whats for dinner?” me: “burnt pancakes” Nathan: “but I don’t want burnt ones.” me: “…sorry?”), me hitting the batter bowl and flinging a wisk along with a splatter of batter all over the floor etc.
This was also coinciding with a brewing lovers quarrel between the Captain and I. Here we go with airing out our dirty laundry. PC and I have really only one thing that brews a squabble. Some people fight about money or sex or family. Ours is time communication. We’ve been together for 14 years and it’s the same old thing every time. This morning he told me he thought he’d be home early. Early to me means anytime before 6pm. I called him late this afternoon (4:00 to be exact) and he said he would be home at 5:15. 5:15 came and went and PC rolled in at about 6:04. To be clear, what I find upsetting is not the actual time that he gets home- I know there are times has to work late. Its the total breakdown in communication….there was no update to let me know that 5:15 was not his ETA. So, here Im wondering where the heck he is, batter is flying all over the kitchen, my brand new laptop is getting trampled on and I just totally loose it. Im sobbing in the kitchen and as soon as I see him drive up I high fived it and told him to enjoy the burnt pancakes with the kids. I’m done for the day. Or better yet- could someone just fire me?
A few minutes later PC came up (well aware that he…oh whats the politically correct way to say this….whatever- he knew he was wrong) and let me know that Karma got even, he deserved this, and I might thoroughly enjoy what he was dealing with downstairs. Behold, exhibit A:
The identities of certain individuals have been disguised in this picture
Folks- its not food. Let me repeat: the substance streaming down her seat onto the chair is not dinner. Im guessing it may have been breakfast.
Filed under: The Captain, someday you'll look back at this and laugh...someday
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You don’t have to have been together for 14 years to know the signs of a terrible day:
-Batter & whisk all over the floor
-Toddler screaming
-Young boy bouncing around
-No wife present
-Burnt pancakes on the counter
-A bomb having exploded in our kitchen
I saw the all the signs, but it really wasn’t until I saw the burnt pancakes that I *KNEW* it was bad. So, I marched myself upstairs and did what every man would’ve done in my shoes…just held her tight. And cleaned everything up. And did not start throwing up when I had to clean up the breakfast that had leaked out of my daughter’s butt. Yes, that’s right: she’s MY daughter now.
1 PC said this (October 22, 2009 at 10:53 am)
See, and thats what makes you such a great husband. And lets be honest, I consider myself a good cook but I have an uncanny ability to burn the hell out of pancakes even on a good day.
2 lisa said this (October 22, 2009 at 10:57 am)
LMAO, Awesome. It’s times like this that make it all worth while.
3 Abbey said this (October 22, 2009 at 1:33 pm)
Very funny. You guys crack me up.
BTW, I cleaned a diaper that looked very similar to that last night : ) I don’t think karma had anything to do with it though. For me it was just luck of the draw.
4 Vivian said this (October 22, 2009 at 3:58 pm)
EW! That is so funny! When John was still in the active duty, I’d ask, “What time are you coming home?” And he would say a number, like “Seven” and I eventually just started saying “See you at nine, then.” Every time. I wish they would just learn to overestimate and then get home early. Geeez.
5 Katie (The Yap) said this (October 28, 2009 at 4:47 pm)