(Read THIS POST FIRST to understand today’s post in context.)
I am married to a comfortably predictable husband.
Not in a monotonous, boring, he-always-reacts-the-same-kind-of-way predictable, but in the comfortable way we can often complete each other’s sentences, calculate each other’s responses, and yes, at times, anticipate each other’s thoughts…read each other’s minds. His beautiful blue eyes captured my attention at 19, and by 24 the rest of him had invaded my heart and soul…and eventually my body………
(Rats……rats…….THIS IS A STORY ABOUT RATS! Focus woman!)
We’ll celebrate our 20th anniversary this year, and by this stage in the game, there are some things that go without saying. He knows he’s married to (in HIS words) a complex, complicated woman, and while I can pretend my inconsistencies are endearing and charming and that that characterization is a compliment, I know what he’s really saying. It boils down to sometimes he loves me BECAUSE of those things, sometimes he loves me IN SPITE OF those things. Regardless, the love is consistent and I chose well when I webbed him with my womanly wiles.
His predictability can be used to my advantage when necessary. Like the other week when Thomas was bouncing off the pet store walls about Fancy Rats. Please note, "fancy rats" is not MY characterization, it’s what Pet Smart calls them so you’ll think they’re something other than what they really are: beady-eyed, fur-encased, doo-doo-dropping mini-demons (or as Erin so aptly put it, "giant mice with snakes for tails").
While I certainly believe that "NO!" means "NO!", especially when said from parent to child, the rules can fly out the door when your Bambi-eyed son penetrates the cracks in your steely armour; kids are natural gamblers, they know when to roll the dice…when to persist.
Thomas took full advantage of me, the kid knew what he was doing. He KNEW I was distracted and occupied with Stephen. He KNOWS I love beasts of all shapes and sizes. He KNOWS when he can pay for something himself, that’s half the battle won. He KNOWS timing is EVERYTHING, and if I walked out the door, there was NO WAY we’d come back for the rats. He KNEW that he had to CARPE MOMENTUM like he never had before. Smart kid, makes me want to beat him with a stick. A big one.
So, as I’ve already mentioned, I took the singular action I KNEW would end the conversation, and get me out the door with my kids and fishes only.
Let Daddy-O play the bad guy.
I’m not afraid to be the "bad guy" sometimes, it’s necessary for successful parenting. My children are decent kids you wouldn’t mind being around, proof to me that I must be a good "bad guy" at least some of the time. But sometimes….SOMETIMES… my resolve is weak, and I NEED Tad’s help.
After handing Thomas the phone to call his dad, I head back to Stephen and the fishes (silently but loudly praying, "PLEASE, GOD, LET HIM HAVE MADE UP HIS MIND BY NOW!").
No one could have been more shocked than me, when Thomas tiggered back to me, excitedly and victoriously proclaiming, "HE SAID GO FOR IT!".
My head snaps in a comic double-take. "WHAT??!" (I can assure you, my thoughts were much less tame.) I wanted to smack that smug winner’s look right off his fair freckled tween face.
"I’m not kidding mom, he said ‘Go for it’," and then he proceeded to tell me verbatim the entire conversation, which really didn’t amount to much. I’m shaking my head in disbelief. I gambled this time and LOST. Why I didn’t call Tad to get his version of the conversation STILL confounds me now–must’ve been the shock. See, I KNOW Thomas, I understand that sometimes he hears "differently" than the rest of the listening world.
And, yet, STILL we proceeded with the purchase of two fancy rats, and a kit with all the fixin’s.
Get this…….there’s still more! I haven’t even gotten to the "good" part, lol :).
Oh my….I can’t wait to hear this!
1) Take the big stick you were going to beat the smart kid with and beat your hubby with it.
2)Buy a cat
3)Buy a cage with a door that doesn’t snap shut completely
4)Stay out of pet stores
5)Hurry and post the next story
I’m writing it now, Claudia and Swampy, lol.
Y’all make sure you read my other post from today though, it cracked me up (the “thing” not the actual post…well, one of the things :/).
yes yes – I can’t wait to read what’s next.
I WILL never tell the kids to call their father. Because, my hubby is the push over. My children have already figured it out – if they want something, don’t ask mom.
Between you and Ree and tingly hineys and body invasions I have no need for romance novels.
…
Oh, yeah, you were talking about rats…
oy vey, girl.
I am afraid of Mice and Birds.
I need to repeat this until everyone knows.
I’m reading this and all the time I’m thinking “why the hell doesn’t she talk to Tad herself?”
you should have spoken up. I found a mouse in my stove drawer the day the hubby had knee surgery.
While he was sleeping I was sterlizing cupboards etc.
Finally caught that little ratsturd this morning. 4 days it ate the p-nut butter and didn’t snap the trap.
PS rodents love pnut butter. Now that you’re gonna own your own, I thought I’d share that tidbit
Karmyn, thing is, “normally” NEITHER one of us is a pushover (** s i g h **)
Stephanie, I have a crush on you…watch out;).
Vicki, “Note to self: Vicki freaks over mice & birds…repeat”
WT, That was among the “private” discussion that didn’t make it to the blog…it’s why my head hurts from banging it against the wall… But the short answer is I WAS DEALING WITH FISH!
Pamela, I didn’t know you were on a ratmission while your husband recovered, BUT I DO know @ peanut butter…thank GOD!
Too, too funny! I always love it when my plans backfire on me too. LOL! You can always get a really big snake to go with the rat 😉
This is reminding me of when I was married…
Picture this if you will..
Best Buy, the summer of 1998.
We went in to buy toner for our printer. Husband was looking at the big screen TV’s. There was a demo model that was on sale at a rock bottom price. Husband comes pleading to me, I say no way, of course. We had 3 TV’s for 2 people.. why on earth would we need another.
Fight ensues. I get frustrated and say, “whatever.”
Husband turns to sales dude and says, “wrap it up.”
Sales dude says, “You are one brave man making a purchase on a ‘whatever’. I’m so glad I’m not coming home with you tonight.”
I should have married the guy from Best Buy instead.
Robin! You were in my dream last night! A huge group of us met, all these blogging buddies, and we would call each other by our monograms, like Pensieve and L’Chaim. One girl was The Bride. You asked if I ever read her blog. I told you no because I refused to read anything about weddings. And then you asked me to cut your hair becuase one side was 2 in. longer than the other.
Anyone want to analyze that? Here’s one theory: I spend way too much time in the blogging world.
You made me giggle , waxing and waning over your husband like that! It’s nice to hear that in a world of divorces, that you guys still got the juice!
*shiver* Fancy rats… sounds like a contradiction to me. Echhh.
I can’t wait to see the rest!
By the way, I had a kickass rat who was totally the coolest thing ever.
Eager to read the rest of the story. I’m now wondering if they make “Fancy Feast” out of “Fancy Rats?”
you know how to get the audience hooked
Mike, you love it when your plans backfire? YOU LOVE IT WHEN YOUR PLANS BACKFIRE? Crazy guy, you are;). Guess the big LOL at the end makes it all worth it :).
Marnie…the “whatever”, what a HUGE word wrapped into 8 letters. Guess it was a “sign” of things to come :/. I HATE it when someone “whatevers” me (’cause I KNOW what it means), and when I “whatever” someone else, THEY should hate it!
Heather, how much do I love that you not only confirm that I’m not the only “one”, but that you did so with me in a starring role! Just stay away from my hair with those scissors, please–I like an asymmetrical look ;).
MaryMert, my husband is TOTALLY mocking my blog as I type these comments right now, so I wanna smack him instead of “juice” him (lol, he told me I was cliche when I told a newbie “thanks for stopping by…”). When the lights go down, I imagine he’ll be singing a different tune;).
I COMPLETELY agree with you that “fancy rats” is an oxy-moron.
Jenny, I’m just curious how in the world your rat was cool…! ‘splain, s’il vous plait.
Mark, Ick…Ick…Ick. Because they probably do (have you ever SMELLED that stuff?).
Chris, I had to laugh…hooked on rats, puts pressure on me for the third (and I pray to God) and LAST installment of the “Rat Chronicles”.
Oh my word – in shock and heading over to read part 3 – and wishing I had been standing next to you to hit you in the head with one of those cat climbing poles so you would be rushed off in an ambulance because GIIRRLLL – those are RATS!!!!!!!!!