Dear Husband, Here’s What I Need You to Know…

Last night, my husband and I got onto a fight. Nothing major. Just over the little stupid things that you fight about when you have kids and obligations and more than just each other to worry about. I don’t even remember what it was over. Something about how he filled his dinner plate up and commenced eating while I was running around trying to get four other humans fed. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Instead,  I thought I’d save myself from the same type of argument and give him a detailed list of how not to fuck up again.

• When I ask you to fold laundry. Fold it. But it better be how I fold it or I will have to refold it
• Take the kids away somewhere and give me a break, yet you better find a way to somehow include me without me actually being there so I don’t miss the kids and feel left out
• Bring me flowers, even though I say I don’t want flowers because they’re a waste of money. Oh, and they better be sunflowers. Not those cheap looking carnation bouquets
• Same goes for Christmas and birthday presents. If we agree we are not getting gifts, there better be a gift for me under that fucking tree
• Know where I want to go out to eat, even when I say I don’t care. Its your job to know what I have on my mind. If you choose and it’s not where I want, then you will get no credit and we will have to go where I really wanted to go tomorrow night. A safe choice is tacos. Always tacos (unless I don’t feel like tacos)
• Let’s just have a mutual understanding that if you don’t ask me how much I just spent on these jeans, I won’t lie and tell you they were only 30 bucks
• Don’t try and have sex with me…it comes off as desperate. But don’t not try…that’s just mean
• Make lots of money. But don’t work too much because I get lonely. Scratch that. Figure out a way to make all the money and not work
• Don’t freak out on me when I freak out on you. I mean, jeez, that really hurts my feelings
• Keep trying. No matter how annoying my constant critiquing is. No matter how many times I’m crying over something you’ll never understand. No matter how hard you work during the day and come home to the shit show that is our life. No matter how many times you call me during the day and I’m an asshole because the kids are being assholes. Just keep trying. Don’t give up. That’s all I ask…that’s not too much, is it?