Friday, July 24, 2009

The Act of Being Paranoid

It happened on a Tuesday night. I was feeling frisky so I started kissing on my husband.

“I’m tired,” he told me, moving his lips away.

Wait. What? What’s this ‘I’m tired’ business that he’s rambling about? That’s MY line, not his.

But....maybe he was tired. So I let it go.

Then I tried again on Wednesday and got the same response. “You can’t do this when I’m about to go to bed,” Tom grumbled, practically pushing me off of him.

Well, I have no choice but to kiss on him when he goes to bed. I can’t try to seduce him when the children are awake. I mean I COULD but I’d scar them for life.

I don’t know why I even bothered on Thursday. But I did.

“I’m very tired,” Tom repeated.

Something was very wrong indeed. It doesn’t help that I’m PMSing which means my emotions are all over the place. The fact that I continued to be denied was starting to get to me. Plus, usually he’s constantly spanking my butt lightly and whispering naughty things in my ears. He wasn’t doing that either.

“In the book He’s Just Not That Into You it says that if a man really loves you that he’d have sex no matter WHAT!” I said to Tom dramatically. Actually, I’m not sure if it exactly says that. I know it says something about calling you if they really like you but I imagine it applies to sex too.

“Amber. Books always upset you. I don’t want to have sex because I’m TIRED,” Tom said firmly and then rolled over.

All sorts of thoughts whirled through my mind.

What if he’s having an affair????

What if he doesn’t find me attractive anymore? What if he’s tired of my non-existent boobs and my stretch marks??

I know it doesn’t make sense but that thought was worse than the affair one. How awful would it be for your spouse to sit you down and say that the marriage was over because he didn’t like the way you looked anymore?

When I woke up Friday morning I decided that I’d be extra nice to Tom. Maybe he was denying me because he thought I was too mean? I know men all over the world are starting to put their feet down over the way their wives treat them thanks to the Jon and Kate thing. Kate was awful to Jon and Jon had enough and now they’re getting divorced and Jon is off traipsing around with some twenty-something bimbo.

I mean, I’m not horribly mean to Tom. But sometimes I do raise my voice because that seems to be what he responds to. If I nicely ask him to do the dishes he rarely does them. But if I’m all, “THE DISHES NEED DONE!” then suddenly he’s racing to the sink.

When I woke up this morning Tom had the TV on Spongebob. Usually I complain about this and insist that we change the channel. But then I remembered that I was going to be extra nice so I said, “What’s that crazy sponge up to today?” in a high pitched voice.

Tom raised his eyebrow at me. I rarely talk like an over caffeinated cheerleader. I sat on the couch and forced myself to watch the cartoon. It was awful. Who can sit and watch Spongebob? When it neared an hour I said, “So, is anything else on?” Normally I’d just grab the remote and say, “I’m tired of Spongebob,” and switch it.

“Well, Family Guy is on another channel but you said it’s not appropriate when the kids are up,” Tom explained.

This is true. We used to put it on when the kids were awake. But then Tommy told me to kiss his ass and I figured the Family Guy days were over.

“Could we please watch something else?” I asked sweetly.

“This is a good episode though. It’s the one where Spongebob and the gang starts a band to impress Squidward’s rich friend,” Tom said.

Nevermind. I got up and decided to phone the cat kennel so we could book Max the cat in when we go to the beach next week. I called our usual place and was informed that they were full.

Full? What’s this full business? This is the first time that they’ve been full.

So then I had to call other kennels and they were full too.

My emotions were already all over the place and I nearly burst into tears when the final kennel in the area picked up.

“Can I help you?” a tiny voice on the other end asked.

Yes. My husband won’t have seh-seh-sehhhhhhhhhhhex with me because I’m an ugly cowwwww... I wanted to sob.

Thankfully they had spaces available.

Then I went out and plopped down on my husband’s lap. “Your biceps are looking bigger,” I admired, squeezing one. My goal was to constantly compliment him. In all the magazines that I read they all say that men love to be complimented.

“I haven’t even been working out,” Tom replied, confused.

Oh my God. I don’t praise him enough! Normally men would be all, “Thank you! They ARE bigger!” but my husband is all, “I haven’t been working out.”

“Still. They look fantastic,” I continued. I threw my arm around his neck and snuggled against his chest. “YOU look fantastic.” I had seen on a talk show that if you constantly praise a man then they’re not as inclined to be as thrilled when another woman says it to them…thus leading to an affair.

“Okay Amber,” Tom said, looking me straight in the eye. “What do you want?”

Huh? “Nothing,” I insisted but Tom still gave me a Look.

“Is there a sale going on at Gymboree?” Tom questioned.

Well. There is one starting Wednesday but that’s beside the point. “No!” I promised. “I just wanted you to know that I love you. And that you look fantastic!”

Tom still looked wary.

“Honest! I don’t think I tell you enough what a great guy you are!” I gushed.

“Whatever,” Tom mumbled and went back to watching Spongebob.

So he was suspicious. Fine. But what if he really didn’t find me attractive anymore? I mean, he was gone for over two months. Maybe he decided he preferred to be a bachelor. That he didn’t like the family life anymore.

I started to tear up because I cry easily when I’m PMSing. I can’t help it. Tom found me in the kitchen sniffling as I washed down the counters.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as a snot bubble popped from my nose. I really wish I were a more attractive crier.

I couldn’t tell him what I was really thinking. That would be lame. Of course he’d deny it anyhow.

“I’m just really upset that Walter Cronkite died,” I lied. “He was a wonderful man.”

Tom stared at me as though I had just let out a massive fart. “You’re acting weird today,” he observed.

Because you don’t find me attractive anymore!

“What’s for lunch?” Tom asked.

Usually we just have leftovers or whatever you can find for lunch. Tom doesn’t understand this concept. I usually fix the children a Kid’s Cuisine meal or a sandwich and I’ll have cereal or last night’s dinner and Tom will just be standing there in confusion.

“Tom!” I’ve told him many times. “You just FIND something and you EAT it.”

He still doesn’t comprehend this.

He sort of pads around the kitchen and opens and re-opens the cabinets and the fridge and the freezer and then will moan that we have nothing to eat.

“We have tons to eat! You’re a grown man! Find something!” I usually snap at him. It’s like he expects me to prepare an entire meal for lunch like I do for dinner. Sometimes I think he forgets that he married someone who hates to cook.

But I couldn’t snap at him this time. Not when he’s probably on the verge of leaving me. So I forced a big smile on my face and said, “What would you like, Sweetums?”

Tom wrinkled his nose. “What’s a sweetums?”

Well. It was a new nickname that I decided to try out. I guess it didn’t go over well.

Tom asked if I we could have the crispy thin frozen pizza.

“Sure!” I said and preheated the oven even though I had planned on having that for dinner on Saturday.

While I was in the kitchen cleaning up the few dishes in the sink Tom suddenly pressed himself against my back.

“You’re mine tonight,” he said into my ear and then smacked my butt before heading back out to the living room.

My heart lifted. He still found me attractive! He really WAS tired those other nights. He doesn’t want to be a bachelor after all!

So...why was I doing these dishes then? I had already cleaned the counters and got Max in a kennel after all..

“Tom!” I called out. “There are some dishes with your name on it!”

No response.

“TOM! DISHES! If I’m making lunch then the least you could do is the dishes!”

He rushed in. “I’ll get them,” he promised.

Ahhh. Things are exactly as they should be...

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