There are times my husband drives me batty. Kreestee says she sometimes calls her husband Mr. Grumpypants, and there are times I think mine ought to be called Mr. Crank-a-butt. I say her and I send the two of them off together someplace so they can irritate each other and not us. What say you, Kree?
Last weekend, for reasons I’ll never fathom, Darc decided that anything he could do that would annoy the crap out of me might be especially fun. He mocked everything I did. If I said one thing, he said the opposite. When I jumped at a loud noise on a TV show, he teased me – told me I had “delayed reaction jumping syndrome” and deliberately made a loud sound himself just to see if I’d jump again. Later, he sneezed loud enough to blow the walls out, and then laughed at me for jumping at that.
I have a box of baking supplies I keep on the top shelf since I don’t bake as often as I’d like. Being the shortie that I am, I keep the edge of the box extended just over the edge of the shelf it’s on so I can get my thumbs under it to get it down – otherwise, I have to get a ladder because I can’t reach it. When Darc was helping me look for some ingredient I needed, he pulled the box out to look inside it, then pushed it back in. “No, pull it back out please, just over the edge, or I can’t reach it when I need it.”
“The door won’t close if I do that,” he argued.
“Yes it will, just please pull it out a little so I can get leverage on it.”
“You mean … like this?” and he pushed the box all the way in the back of the cabinet as far as it would go.
“Damn! You’re such an ass!”
He laughed. Then he pulled the box out so far it almost fell out of the cabinet while he mocked me. “You want it all the way out, like this?”
“Cut it out! Why are you being such a dick? D. I. C. K. Dick! Knock it off!”
All. Weekend. Long. If there was a chance to mock or tease me, he didn’t let it pass. He was like the proverbial little boy who dips the little girl’s pigtails in the inkwell. I’ve had to chase him with my backscratcher – see, it’s an old bamboo one, and it extends my reach by about 18”, and if we’re sitting at our desks I can reach him with it. Smartypants leans his shoulder over to me when he sees me coming, mocking me smacking him, “Make sure you don’t miss now!” Oooooh that man!
So just to get even, when he saw this over on Blame it on the Voices and asked me if it was worth watching, I said, “Yeah. It was interesting.” I feigned nonchalance. (Heheh, pretend I said that with a British accent!) [Kreestee, you might want to suggest that link to Mr. Grumpypants. ]
Then I laughed my butt off when his head hit the ceiling.