Thursday, April 15, 2010

Letter From Afghanistence

[Editor's Note: McLovin has left the creature comforts of home for Afghanistan, which means Kate is involuntarily practicing Afghanistence for a while...but he left a little something for MommyLand to enjoy. - Lydia]

My talkative lovely wife started nagging me suggesting a couple of weeks ago that maybe -- because I spend so much time telling her what to write -- that I should just write my own rant.

I check in here every once in a while just to see what Kate is up to while I'm at work. And I've come to the realization that some of you may think my wife is a self-centered, ummmm, pain in the ass.

Well, let me throw some gasoline on that fire.

Dear my lovely wife Kate,

As you know, I make lists. Here's the one about you:

  • I have puncture wounds on the bottom of my feet from stepping on the heels of your shoes. Did I not build you a huge closet? Yes? Can you use it for things other than piling dirty laundry?
  • If I've had a rough day, your response is always ALWAYS "did someone watch you pee?" Well, no, because that's odd, even where I work. And, if I said yes, does that make us even?
  • You do hog the covers, you do snore, you kick me and you drool. All in all, you're as much as pain in the rear when you're asleep as you are when you're awake.
  • What is your last name anyway? It is mine? Is it his? Is it both? We have a census to fill out and you've got more surnames than this form can take. No wonder your signature is totally illegible. You have no idea what you're writing.
  • Fart jokes are funny. Period. They're funny when we're 5, and they're still funny when we're 50. And the boys think they're funny because I taught them to. It's part of being a dude. You're welcome.
  • Please don't ask my opinion of dishes, furniture or curtains...if it enables me to eat, sit or keep the world from seeing me naked, it's good.
  • Once you say the word "Lydia" on the phone, I figure it means you're happy and dinner is probably going to be late. It's all good. You keep on truckin' baby.
  • I love that you're all about Lent, and our children have embraced it as well. But I suck at it, and we both know this...I'm hoping you've given yourself a huge pat on the back for your Wine Fast. You did great. But, there are four other people who live here...and forty-six days - as you so loudly informed us again and again - was a long time for us too.
  • Yes, I'm still a New Yorker at heart. I like saying douche. I love it even more when you say it. And it's even better when you try to say it like a New Yorker. You sound like a wierd combination of some goombah mob guy and that crazy broad who had a TV show about being a nanny, but it's damn funny.
  • Season One and I do OK. But remember you play intermediary in this little threesome. Neither of us likes calling or e-mailing each other directly if we can avoid it. It's just wierd. Because you are the one thing we have in common, and we are not going to be talking about you. You write us. We'll reply and copy each other. Much, much better. Trust us.
  • Remember when I gave you the Sex & the City Box Set? Mostly it was because it would mean you could watch it when I was out of town. I only watched it with you back then because I was dating you. Please see below:
  • We (guys) know that our wives get all geared up about stuff they won't have to do anymore once they get married...we do too. Mostly, that we never have to watch Sex & the City ever again. In exchange, your trash magically vanishes from your house every week. Ta-daa.
  • Ummm, the laundry basket in the corridor? Clean? Dirty? Help. Because I'm running out of t-shirts and socks and you have forbidden me from touching the washing machine. How was I supposed to know that your bras can't go in the dryer? What the hell is underwire?
  • Yes. At some point I will clean the ceiling. I know I taught them to throw things up to learn about gravity. But, c'mon, it's cool. Especially when they start to fall, days later. They love that sh*t.  
  • The dog? Really? Does he have to go outside every morning at 5am, and then at 5:15am, and then at 5:20am? Christ, he's already on a pharmacy of medications...can't you just get him another one to deal with that? Because no one in our neighborhood needs to see me outside that early that many times.
  • One last thing: Please, please destroy all receipts from when you go shoe shopping. For that price, we should have a brand new refrigerator. Full of steak. And beer. And Phillies season tickets. I'm just sayin'.
I know you and Lydia will come in here and make all kinds of changes. Or put in all your comments. Or you'll just delete the whole damn thing and write stuff yourself. But here's the part you can't change. You're amazing. And beautiful. And even when you're a pain in my ass, I don't remember my life without you. Or them. And when you guys are away you may think I love it, but I don't.

Now, go call someone a douche. Because it's even funnier when the little one says it. Duuuuuush.

I'll be home soon. Be good.

Love you baby,


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