Women are from Venus, Men are … Morons


*Disclaimer: Ok this title is a bit harsh, but it got your attention didn’t it?  For the record, I love my husband and no husbands were harmed in the production of this post*

An ongoing problem in our relationship is that my husband says I like to be right, I like to make all the decisions and I think I know everything. So what’s the problem, right? Ok fair enough, I may be a little headstrong in my approach, but that’s simply because I know I am right all most of the time. I’m not one of those people who will argue unless I am pretty sure I know what I am talking about. If I have a shadow of a doubt, I will say so, but still give my opinion. Basically I like to be heard.

Maybe it’s because I am the youngest of four children and needed to fight for my voice to be heard. Maybe it’s because I was my parents’ favourite and all their doting attention gave me a big head. Maybe it’s just because I am so bloody awesome. All I know is, 99% of the time I should be winning the argument because I am right, but sometimes I let my husband win to boost his ego. (Murphy, you know my husband doesn’t read my blog, please don’t let him choose today to have a look-see.)

Ok, so when we moved into our house, we decided that I’d be in charge of the inside of the house, and his domain would be outside. I was willing to relinquish this bit of power, so that he could feel like the king of something. Foolishly I agreed to this, thinking that inside was obviously far superior to have complete reign over, than outside. Rookie error, I admit. So I take care of everything in the house, except stuff like fixing tv’s and microwaves and getting things on the top shelf because I’m short, and cleaning and sweeping because I don’t like housework, and doing dishes because the husband enjoys doing that and taking out the trash. So everything else. He makes sure the yard is neat and tidy, the pool is clean and working, the irrigation system does what it needs to do and the trees, shrubs, verges and flowers look tip-top. He is responsible for keeping the cars clean and working, making sure the bins are put out on dirt day, making sure I don’t get wet between the house and the car if it is raining – outside stuff, you know.

So the other morning, Gentry (the lovely man who looks after our garden) and the husband were walking in the yard, taking stock of the lay of the land, discussing whatever men in the garden discuss. I tried to eavesdrop or lip read to no avail. So I left it. I got home from work and the first thing I see is this big gaping hole along the side of the fence. The big gaping hole which once housed my most magnificent lily bush or whatever that flower was called. I go a little crazy… I’m like “what did Gentry do, that Gentry is going to be in so much trouble, Gentry hasn’t seen my wrath, Gentry you make me so mad” and on and on I went. Enter husband who tells me that HE told Gentry to take that bush out. I think my eyes may have started rolling back in my head and smoke may have come out of my ears – but I blacked out so I can’t recall my exact reaction. But let’s imagine it went something like this… even though it didn’t but this will give you the gist…

Me: Why dear husband would you direct Gentry to pull out that bush?

Husband: Because it was dead.

Me: No it wasn’t dead, it merely needed to be pruned and tended to.

Husband: It was overgrown, the leaves were brown and it hadn’t flowered in two months.

Me: Yes darling husband, this is what flowers do… they flower periodically, NOT CONSTANTLY. The brown bits need to be chopped off and the bush can be trimmed down but it was NOT dead.

Husband: Ok sorry, I’ll buy you a new one.

Me: That bush was well established, it was probably there for years, it was alive and flourishing. You buying me a new one will not fix this.

Husband: Oh well (walks away).

Me (in my head): I HAVE A CRATER IN MY GARDEN, MY BEAUTIFUL LILY BUSH THING IS DEAD, EVERYTIME I LOOK OUT MY BEDROOM WINDOW AT THE GAPING HOLE I WANT TO SCREAM AND PUT A PILLOW OVER MY HUSBANDS HEAD.

Anyway, my green thumbed mother advised me to dig in the dirty black backs of garden refuse and get the bulbs and replant them. Eeuw. I’ll pass thanks. I’m now looking for something that will grow quickly and wildly and close up that hole so that I don’t have to be reminded of it every day. Any suggestions? THIS is why I need to be in control of ANYTHING and EVERYTHING – inside the house or outside, because if I am not, then stupid things like this happen. Going forward, nothing happens without Sergeant Major’s (that would be me) approval, NOTHING.

Please take a look at this.. I’ve entitled this image “From Hero to Zero” – yes my “dead” bush produced these flowers just a few months ago. Go figure.

From Hero to Zero

 

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3 thoughts on “Women are from Venus, Men are … Morons”

  1. Poor Byron! Why it seems as if he does everything? Brenton’s granny used to say “I’m so tired! I’ve been working the whole day!” But she was just busy giving out instructions! Lol! So, sergeant major, do some work!!! Oh and sorry about the plant! Xxx

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