Come and Meet Mr. Whazitooya!

I digress.

The hubby is getting on my nerves. Again. Nothing new, he is always getting on my nerves. But this time it is more serious. In the last two weeks of thought of the 'D' word at least five times.

No not 'damn', 'dummy', or 'dead as a door nail when I get through with you', but divorce!

Here's why.

Anyone who has been reading this blog knows that the hubby and I do go to counseling/therapy. Ms. G has recently begun to see us every two weeks instead of every week because she thought we were making such good progress. She thought.

Now, this coming up session I am going to tell her that we need to come back every week so that the hubby can begin to learn to use his resources that God gave to him at birth.

It's called a piehole. It's the thing one inch right above your chin, and when you stand up straight it sits right under your nose.

He uses it to stuff it with food, talk/yell at the kids, talk to the boss, cuss at the TV, and to call loved ones when they are too far away to visit. He uses it for everyone except me. I get the silent treatment.

Me addressing the hubby when he comes in from a long day at work: "How was your day"?

Hubby with back turned: "Ok".

Me frowning: "What was that"?

Hubby talking in a higher octave than necessary: "It was okay".

Me silently fuming with arms crossed and everything.

Hubby using the bathroom and making it smell like something died in there.

Me with one can of air freshener sprayed directly at the bathroom door as the hubby comes out of the 'stink room': "Ummm... you don't smell that"?

Hubby ignoring me as he clears his throat and shrugs his shoulder.

Me: "Well"?

Hubby quietly: "Well what"?

Me: "Don't you want to talk about your day"?

Hubby: "It was okay".

Me: "And what else? And in case you have forgotten I've been holed up in the house with three teens who right now hate me because I made them go to bed after Jay Leno's' monologue and are probably plotting my demise right now as we speak, a 12 year old who picks on her little brother ALL DAY LONG, a six-year old who runs all day even to go so far as to kick in her sleep, and a two year old who loves to wear make-up to bed and screams when I try to remove it. So please, no wise cracks. Just some honest to goodness adult conversation".

Hubby blinking at me as I try to catch my breath.

Me staring back at him as I try to regain my composure.

Hubby makes a beeline for the bathroom to take a shower.

Me sighing as I now realize that it is going to be another non-talkative lonely night.

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I really don't want to make the TV my best companion at night as I turn to it to have some normalcy of conversation. Or spend another night fuming in my journal and pressing down so hard on the paper I can read what I wrote six pages ahead. But what else is there to do?

I think the hubby forgot that when we agreed to counseling for our marriage we were to get better at communicating, not shutting each other out of our lives.

I also realize that he does work two jobs and is under a lot of stress and maybe making conversation at 11:30 PM when everyone is just beginning to look at the back of their eyelids is probably not the best time to converse.

But then what is?!?