Tony E. Milf
“In your unique face” (That’s what she said)
Over this past weekend my wife’s oldest friend came to visit us. She lives about 6-7 hours away by car. She is married and has two kids of her own, a boy around the age of 14 and her daughter who is 11. She left her husband and son behind and brought her daughter along for the trip.
They spent a good part of Friday driving up here and so by the time I got home from being at work that day they had been at our house for just about an hour. My wife worked from home that day and so was already on the couch chatting it up with Susie with a glass of wine in each of their hands.
It was decided that dinner was going to happen and so the dreaded question was asked and directed towards each of us once more. “What do you want for dinner?” My kids, age nine and five, being obstinate little bastards they are, mine are, say they hate whatever it is the other suggests, and offer no compromising ideas.
Us “adults” decide we are going to just order a couple of pizzas so that way they can either pick off what they don’t like or starve of their own volition. I call the order in, my wife hates making orders on the phone, and am told its going to be about 35 minutes until the order is ready for pickup. I hate getting it delivered as it is always late and luke warm by the time they bring it to you and on top of that they charge you for this luxury. I know pizza guys, having been one once twenty years ago, tend to make 2-3 stops on each of their runs. I know that even if you are lucky enough to be the first house on the stop that doesn’t mean your pizza spent some time cooling off after being taken out of the oven as the driver had to wait for the other orders to come out as well.
No sooner than I hang up the phone does my wife inform me we are out of wine. By the use of “we” she means her and her friend as I have never been much of a wine drinker. She asks that I stop by the grocery store and pick up a six pack on my way to get the pizzas to which I agree. She then says “Oh by the way I have a check that needs depositing as well.” Being the diligent husband I am I tell her I can drop that off as well since the bank is right next door to the grocery store. I do some quick mental math and realize I need to leave now if I am going to be there at the 35 minute mark to hand pick up my hot pizzas before they get a chance to cool.
I stop by the bank to make the deposit and hit the grocery store and arrive at the pizza parlor at the 30 minute mark with an anticipatory smile on my face. Twenty minutes later I’m leaving with my hot pizzas that were late getting in the oven. At least they are hot, right?
Once home I start pulling out the plates from the cupboard and asking everyone who doesn’t already have a drink in hand what they would like to drink. I start passing out plates and glasses to everyone sitting down at the couch and then take my own seat with them. That is when I notice their issues in getting something to play on Netflix. I get up from my still hot enough pizza to go find my Chromebook and search for a site that lists what kid’s movies are available right now on Netflix. I then pass it over to my wife so she can look it over as I start devouring my pizza. Not exactly saving the titanic from sinking type behavior but I do what I can to get the job done.
Saturday rolls around. I take the three kids to go catch a movie while the women folk do their thing which in my mind is a secret lesbian thing. The movie just happens to be “Angry Birds”, yes shoot me now. So the movie is over and I take the kids back home and let them do their thing while I try and do some picking up around the house. Unfortunately my picking up is at a slower pace than their pulling out stuff and trampling it and then abandoning it before moving onto the next thing. Yes I am exaggerating about my lengthy four inch penis here, just a little, if you catch my double entendre.
A few hours go by and I get a text from the wife. They walked their way over to a local tavern and have been winning their day away. They suggest I take the kids over and meet them there. My car seats four individuals, my wife’s seats five. For those of you who are caught up on your math, everyone included brings our numbers up to six. We get there and I do my best to keep the kids entertained yet also get some words in edgewise with the women. A couple of tantrums erupt over the little ones not getting their way and my wife leans over to say “Tony, you are making an ass of yourself.” I kid, she didn’t lean over to tell me that, I just got the look.
We have dinner and then it’s time to get going. It’s soon decided that I am going to take the two older girls with me back home and my son is going to walk all the way back with the moms. I volunteer to drop the 11 and 9 year old at home and come back for them but they say it’s not necessary. My perverse mind is now thinking they want to have more intimate time but with my five year old isn’t that going to be awkward? I mean he can’t keep up to their pace and likes to stop a lot and complain. I tell them I will have my phone ready should they want me to come get them. An hour later they show up and by now it’s close to 9pm. I help my kids do some cleaning up and start getting ready for bed.
Sunday morning rolls around and I get up before everyone else because my body is trained to do just that. I get up at 5am because of work and so find it difficult to sleep in even when I get the chance to do so. I knew my wife’s friend wanted to hit the road at around 9am so I had a bit of time to cook a simple breakfast. 8 o’clock rolls around and I head into the kitchen to start on the muffin mix, bacon, and eggs. I then go and wake up my wife and kids and a half hour later we are all eating breakfast and getting ready to say goodbye to our guests.
After they leave my wife comes in to tell me her friend wanted me to thank you for her. I ask how so? She says for all that I did. Her response was that she told my wife she lucked out and got ‘one of the good ones.’
That is nice to hear but I think it would have rather heard it to my face. I understand that not everybody is comfortable with being honest. Some people are shy, I get it. I just have a strong belief that actions speak louder than words. You can tell something until the cows come home but that isn’t going to make be believe you until I see some sort of effort. You know, words are cheap, actions speak volumes. The least you can do is say it to my face.
This of course now brings me back to expectations versus reality. Being a dork, which most guys are, I tend to make hidden jokes around my wife and kids that are meant for just her to grasp and soar completely over the kid’s heads. For instance my girl likes to say “This one time-” to which I, when I think about it, like to insert “-at band camp.” My wife gets angry with me and tells me this is inappropriate behavior. I think its three simple words “at, band, camp” and nothing more. You can take what you want out of it as the receiver. If you choose to think these three words are offensive then that is on you and not on me. My kids, being angelically ignorant, at least in my eyes, have no grasp yet on the more subtle meaning. I think of it as multi-level, or Simpson-esc humor, which has been going on since the beginning of time. Kids don’t know and until they do know they don’t care. The day will come when they do know for at least for now that day isn’t today. My wife always says “What if they look it up on the internet?” to which I reply “Why would they bother looking up those three stupid words unless you make so much of a big deal out of it that it creates an interest in doing so.
She doesn’t see it that way
-That’s what she said.
Anyway, getting back on topic. It’s nice to think that others think nice things of you. I also understand that I shouldn’t base my personal value of myself upon what others think of me regardless was going to keep on doing what I’m doing because I think it’s right.
– David Koresh (not really but I hope you see the underlining message here)
Everything is wrong even when you think it’s right. There are no real villains as the world is just full of unique protagonists all thinking they are doing the right thing.
So where am I going with all this? My wife thinks she is doing what is right. I’m doing what I think is right. My kids, selfish little bastards, are doing what they think is best for them in their immediate future. It’s all a big game of self-preservation and neglect.
You see for as much as I try and do right by my wife and kids I’m sure I’m also missing something and doing something wrong. I mean why else would we have such an elaborate mental health industry in this country to deal with unresolved issues from our lives?
I don’t feel like I’m getting what I want.
Do I become an ass and force my opinion onto others or do I just suck it up and do the best with what I have? Do I become my own protagonist only to become somebody else’s villain? Is that how I want to live my life? The answer is simple, at least to me. This is not the life I want to live by. In my fantastical mind my wife knows me and knows what it takes to love me in the way I need to feel loved. I do what I can for her but is often the case I am not a mind reader. When I have asked her “what else can I do for you?” or address her with “Can we talk?” I find myself watching as her eyes roll in her sockets as she mutters “Not this again.”
I don’t want to impose. I don’t want to demand. Yet I do these things to my own children out of a sense that they lack the mental maturity to see the bigger picture. Are spouses that much different? I often find myself thinking ‘did I get a good one?’
So when does selfishness make you the villain?