I should just start this post by saying I don’t go out of my way to make Husband feel like crap. He can be oddly sensitive sometimes for someone who doesn’t seem to have any consideration for anyone else’s feelings..like ever.
Yesterday was especially long for me. Son was home sick. So he was uncomfortable and coughing and mouth breathing and needy and everything that a kid with a cold is, so it was relief for me to get him read to and tucked in for the night.
I turned the lights out, turned on Netflix, and relaxed. I had a total of 2 or 3 whole minutes before Husband came home, threw himself down on the bed and began coughing and sneezing. I had no patience. I made a little small talk about how his classes went and then grabbed my blanket and headed for the living room.
He’s all,”Don’t bother leaving. I’ll go. Sorry for ruining your precious tv time!” He goes off in a huff and spends the night on the couch.
Honestly all I felt was relief at getting the bedroom to myself. I feel like I maybe I should have felt bad, maybe made an effort to engage him or care about his comfort or relaxation, but no.. I didn’t. I savored having the whole bedroom to myself and lost myself in the fictional foibles and follies of that dysfunctional domestic diva, Nancy Botwin-Scottson-Reyes.