For years I have hated Mondays. I think all working adults hate Mondays.
Now I'm torn, I don't hate Mondays anymore. I rather look forward to them.
All because on Monday mornings I know Austin is going to go back to work. After this weekend (3 day weekend) I needed a break.
I think it was his goal to be annoying.
It worked. He acted like a spoiled child all weekend. If something didn't go his way he threw a fit.
Point in case, I asked him to help me clean the kitchen and he had a melt down. An absolute melt down. Went on and on about how this was his weekend off and he didn't want to have to work. Blah Blah Blah. Cry me a f**cking river.
I was asking him to take his junk to the garage. You know the miscellaneous husband garbage that ends up in the kitchen. Like his screwdrivers, tape measure, hammer, gloves, etc.
I handled it in my 'good wife' fashion and am now in a dishes standoff. I might have yelled at him that because I don't get a weekend off or even a morning to sleep in that I decided I was taking one. If he wanted a clean dish, glass, or piece of silverware he could wash it himself.
I am sure we will start talking again sometime later this week.
He just pushed the wrong button. Multiple times. Hard and in rapid succession.
*note: For everyday use we only have 4 of everything so when I say the dishes aren't done it isn't like there are mounds of dishes. Just 4 forks 4 knives 4 spoons 4 plates 4 bowls 4 glasses.
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