Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Pissy Man Syndrome

So, I came home and saw that Tom had cleaned the house.

He vacuumed.

Did the dishes.

Wiped down the counters.

Why did he do it?

Well, here's what happened:

I was at the mall checking out the new line from Gymboree. The Baby Sale also started today which meant that there were $10 and $20 price marks. I had a 20% off coupon so that made it $8 and $16. I was proud of myself for only purchasing one outfit and when I was checking out my purse started to ring.

Not really.

More like my cell phone.

I need to change my ringtone because it's highly irritating. I looked on the front of the phone and Tom's number flashed on the screen.

"Hello?" I said as I dug through my purse for the debit card. I rarely charge clothes as I find credit card evil.

"Where are you?" Tom asked. He was at PT when I left the house. I had quickly scrawled him a note and placed it on the couch.

"Baby Sale. Today. Am There," the note read.

So I was a little surprised when Tom asked where I was. I know he hates to read but come on, I made my note as simplistic as I possibly could.

"At the mall," I said slowly. Maybe during PT he had hit his head and forgot how to read?

"I thought we could go to Wal-Mart today. I work tomorrow and need to bring a lunch and there is NOTHING to eat in the house," Tom said dramatically.


We have plenty of food in the house. He's just overly picky.

"Go to Wal-Mart then," I answered, still not understanding what the problem was.

"I thought we could go together. As a FAMILY." Tom continued with the theatrics which meant that it was his time of the month.

I don't care what people say. Men obviously get some form of PMS. It never fails that Tom will suddenly get overly cranky at least once during the month.

"Look Tom, I'll call you back," I said. I hate when people yak on the phone when they're checking out. It just seems rude to me.

"Don't bother," Tom said and then I heard a click.

He HUNG up on me.


Are we back in high school?

I paid for my outfit and when I walked out of the store I called Tom back.

He didn't answer the first time.

I tried one more time and he answered with a gruff, "WHAT?"

PMS. (Pissy Man Syndrome?) I am telling you.

"You hung up on me for no reason," I chastised him.

"You were too busy to talk to me," he replied.

"Look, just go to Wal-Mart if you need food. Okay?" I said, speaking to him as though I were speaking to a tantruming child. Because that's what he was behaving like.

"Nevermind," he fumed. "I'll just starve tomorrow."

"Great," I said cheerfully. "Then maybe you'll lost some weight."

And then I hung up on him.

I know I was being mean. But honestly. Hang up on me, and it's not going to be pretty.

I suppose Tom felt bad because when I walked home, as I mentioned in the beginning of the entry, the house was cleaned.

Of course he was still pouting on the couch. When I walked in he quickly turned and faced the wall. Is he getting pouting tips from Tommy?? (Who, by the way, is SIX.)


I pretended I didn't see him. I calmly walked into the kitchen and set my purse on the counter as I always do. Then I pulled Natalie's outfit from the bag and admired it. While I was doing this, Tom came up behind me.

"I cleaned," he said, gesturing to the kitchen.

I nodded. "I saw that." I still spoke as though conversing with a petulant child. "Thank you."

Then Tom put his arms around me. "I'm sorry," he forced out. He pointed to the outfit. "That's cute," he offered. Which was basically a peace offering in his opinion.

I lifted up the pink skirt. "This may need ironing. Can you iron if it needs it?" I fluttered my lashes at him. I've never ironed a day in my life and he knows this. Well, I sort of did. I decided that I was going to be a Nice Wife one day and went to ironing his uniform. I nearly ruined it though. Tom walked in just in time and told me in a patient voice that perhaps I should leave the ironing to him from now on.

"Yeah, I can iron," Tom agreed. "Is something in your eye?"

Oh. I stopped blinking like mad and grinned up at him.

"We can go to Wal-Mart after dinner," Tom continued.

He doesn't like to shop alone. Me, I love it. But maybe Tom gets confused when he's in a store by himself.

Where do I go? Usually I have a wife leading the way..

I do see a lot of baffled looking men wandering Wal-Mart sometimes. As though they aren't quite sure what they're doing there.

"Fine, we can go to Wal-Mart. I'll drool over in the bakery section," I said, licking my lips.

Mmm, donuts and cakes covered in buttercream frosting.

Actually, Tommy can flip through the cake book and figure out what cake he wants for his birthday.

Since his birthday is next month.

My boy will be seven. SEVEN.

Where did the time go?


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