To say that right now I am mad would be the biggest understatement of the year.
Are you scratching your head wandering what the last post was all about? Here it is in a nutshell. Saturdy morning I come home from a rough night at work taking care of one extremely critical baby. I was so happy to be home. I cuddled and hugged the grandgirl and shared a breakfast/bedtime snack of waffles with my son. As I head to bed, my “darling” husband waves goodbye telling me that he is heading into Tracy. No problem I think to myself. He has an office in Tracy and I assume he is heading into the office…he is after all supposed to be selling the house of some dear friends who are relocating soon to Indiana. It would seem like a pretty logical assumption….right?
Oh hell no!
No, my “darling” husband bought himself a motorcycle!
Ooooo, oh so pretty!
Am I pissed?
Oh yeah!
Now why in the world would I be upset?
Why?
Oh let’s see…
One could consider the fact that I don’t like motorcycles but then one might suggest I am just being an irrational girl. Okay, maybe I am. But then we should consider the fact that nearly three decades ago I witnessed the death of a young man I dated. He died in a motorcycle accident. It might seem irrational these negative feelings about motorcycles and loved ones who ride them but maybe if a more rational person considers this traumatic event they might actually have a little empathy. One would think that.
Then one might consider the obvious fact that MY HUSBAND made a MAJOR purchase without even sitting down and discussing it with me. I mean we are supposed to be partners in marriage, in raising our family, in finances. One would think that there would be a certain level of communication, of respect to take the time to sit down and discuss such a big thing…yes, this is a big thing. Okay, in his defense, he did mention that he wanted to buy a bike…while he was in a bar…after having a few beers. In man-land that might be “discussing” it but…oh my goodness I can’t even go there. The fact of the matter is I see no respect here. None. There was no real discussion and there wasn’t even a casual mention Saturday morning. As he grabbed the keys to the car (that he bought for himself just last year) and said goodbye he could have said, “I’ll see you later. I’m going to Tracy to buy myself a Harley because I want to.” He could have. But he didn’t.
Maybe then one might consider that yes, I might be just a teensy-tinsy bit miffed.
Maybe.
That would be an understatement.
One might suggest that my 45 year old “darling” husband is going through a mid-life crisis of sorts. Poor, poor man! He is, after all, getting older and dealing with the reality of getting older and abusing his body. I wouldn’t be surprised that this 45 year old, father of FIVE is seeking some sort of thrill/validation that he still has “it”.
Whatever.
Meanwhile, I am collecting suggestions for my own personal mid-life crisis. Why not? Oh yeah, there is that family of mine that I have to consider. But one never thinks of things like that when one is in the middle of a mid-life crisis.
Yes, I am mad…just a little bit. But today, here under the Big Top, that doesn’t really seem important.
