I guess it’s safe to assume the honeymoon is over because I’m back to bitching and he’s on the commode.

January 17, 2014 in Crap I Was Considerate Enough to Not Bother You with Before Now.

Apparently, for my dear husband, Keith…the honeymoon is over.

And ok.  Maybe a little for me, too.

Last weekend, I was alone.



Him and Cayla did some bonding.  Went hunting or camping or whatever.  I didn’t really care.  I just knew I was going to be a-totally-lone for a full weekend.  And that’s all that mattered.

They left on Friday and that was that.

I.  Was.  Single.

Ready to mingle.

My weekend consisted of a whole lot of me.  Which is tough for even me to stomach, but I did it.  Got up early Saturday morning and took off downtown and walked.  For quite a while.

(I decided to start trying to lose the 817 pounds I gained since saying “I do.”)

Hit a couple of farmers markets…went to a specialty Cajun market….bought some new lipgloss…hit up a thrift store…just whatever the hell I wanted to do.

I went home and just did, well…nothing.  For 3 hours.  I sat in my chair and I read some, watched a little TV, mopped the kitchen floor…nothing.

(I only mopped so it would appear something was done when they returned home.)

(Not that I cared.  But I kinda felt like I should.  But I didn’t.)

Then I got a massage.  Oh, yes I did.  Had to.  All the stress of being a-totally-lone was killing me.  Simply killing me.  One person can stand just so much remote flipping and ass scratching and dozing off.  That does start to wear on you after a while, you know?

Anyway…speed up to their return on Sunday.

Hugs, tell-me-all-about-it-crap, I-missed-you-so-much-crap, put-your-tent-and-crap-up-crap, why-does-the-kitchen-floor-have-mud-on-it-I-just-mopped-it-crap, I-said-put-your-crap-up-crap, somebody-needs-to-scrub-their-butt-because-y’all-ain’t-bathed-in-two-days-and-one-of-you-wreak-crap, you’re-going-to-shave-that-face-before-bed-crap, and well…you know.  The norm.

Life is now back to normal.

Or, more like, I’m back to bitching about dishes being left in the sink instead of going into the dishwasher and screaming “I leave at 6:30 every morning, I work 40 hours a week and sit in traffic 10 hours a week, I gotta have some friggin help around here sometimes!  Please take my crap to the dry cleaners because nobody at work wants to see me in my robe!”

Or something like that.

(I’m sure they’d still like to be back in that tent by now.  Eating their stale Triscuit crackers, their nasty, cold hot dog weenies and that mashed up loaf of bread.)

But I love’em.  Whether they love me or not…I love them enough for all three of us.  And I’m glad they’re home.


(I think.)

(How many lies can you tell before it counts as hell-worthy?)

(Surely God doesn’t read my crap, right?)


That might be a tad reason as to why I say my honeymoon is over.  I’m complex like that.

Deep.  Complicated.  Convoluted.  Perplexing.

You get it.

Now, you must be asking, “Well, what makes you think Keith’s honeymoon is over??”

Here’s why:

Last night I’m sitting in bed with my laptop on my lap and he goes in the bathroom and after a couple of minutes I hear his phone playing some music or video or something and I holler out “Hey!  Aren’t you about ready to come to bed??  What are you doing in there?” and he replies with:


(Oh, hell yes he did.)

Lisa Guedry January 17, 2014 at 12:06 pm

This makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside….I’m so happy for all three of ya’ll! The honeymoon ain’t over…if it was, he’d have the door open while he was enjoying his commode time! lol

Carrie January 17, 2014 at 12:22 pm

OH MY GOD…That has to be the funniest thing I’ve seen in ages! And you’re so right!

We ain’t at that point. YET.

Love. =)

Lisa Hewitt January 17, 2014 at 1:54 pm

Honey the honeymoon may be over (Thank God -am I right?), but, the advernture has just begun! Y’all are in for the time of your lives! Him especially, and in my opinion, should, in fact, get down on his knees, everyday, and thank the Good Lord above that a sassy little red-head sashayed into his life. (not real clear about that lie limit either). And – Always keep the bathroom door closed – that’s a deal breaker. Just is.

Carrie January 17, 2014 at 2:12 pm

You’re so dead on balls right, it ain’t funny.

We really do have a great time together. As soon as I think he can’t possibly get anymore fun, there he is right there with me egging me on.

There’s something incredibly love-filled when you’re so honest and free with each other, that you find it simply makes each other even better.

(Dear Lord…that was sappy. I’m kinda gagging now.)

And on another note, YOU bring me such laughter and fun…I am making it my life’s mission to one day meet you and hug your neck.

I’ll don a bandana if you don the Darth Vadar helmet.

Val January 17, 2014 at 2:10 pm

Important secret that was passed on to me just a few months ago, cause I’m 40 years old and super smart I guess…spray the kitchen and bathrooms with cleaner before they are supposed to get home. Now it smells like you just busted your butt cleaning!
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Carrie January 17, 2014 at 2:13 pm


I could have by-passed all that chair and table moving and waiting for the floor to dry so I could pee by just spraying a little nose-burning cleaner spray?!?

You have just made my life a little bit sweeter. =)

Hollie January 17, 2014 at 6:32 pm

Hilarious. Love it as usual. Always giggle. 🙂

Carrie January 17, 2014 at 8:28 pm

Aww…hearing that makes me happy!! Thank you, Hollie!!

Amber January 20, 2014 at 7:05 pm

Ha! My husband also loves his commode time. Sometimes I worry that he’s fallen in…
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Carrie January 23, 2014 at 8:51 am

I’m starting to believe that’s his ‘man cave’ place.

Jessica January 26, 2014 at 9:20 am

Amber above worries that her husband has fallen in….while I get antsy that mine never will. Talk about honeymoon over…
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