Sometimes, you don't get to be a P

I busted my hump the last week trying to get everything together to make some extra cash. Garage sale. Need I say more?

Hubbie, for about 6 weeks now, has been working late nights and weekends, with exception of the last two weekends, which conveniently, he has been able to take off to go hunting. (Had to cancel the 10-year anniversary trip we booked to Mexico because he was too busy to take two days off work- but whatever- that's a whole other blog session). Needless to say he was absolutely no help with the garage sale. NO HELP. NOTHING. NADA. On top of that I got stuck picking up a bunch of shit from his mother last week and had to sell it for her- and then take everything that didn't sell back to her this evening. Dealing with her made me want to kill myself. I will never sell her stuff again. She can box that shit up and get rid of it herself.

We sold all weekend. So I'm tired as hell- sitting in the heat all day, dealing with A-holes who have no respect for you or your belongings and only want to pay something like a 100th of what you priced it at, if that. And I had the kids with me all weekend to boot. They really were prefect little angels, but got bored at times, bless their hearts.

Hubbie shows up at 2:00 this afternoon after getting back into town, to pick the kids up and take them to Toys R Us to reap the rewards of the $10 bucks I gave each of them to buy a toy if they didn't bitch about the ton of other old toys we had to sell of theirs. They were champs- only one whine out of one kid, about one toy. Not bad. He took them shopping and then rushed home to catch the Cowboy game. Would I have liked to catch the game? You bet. But I was too damn busy working in the heat earning some cash to watch it.

Bryce purchased some Incredible Hulk gloves...not a surprise since he's talked about them nonstop after my promise to go to the toy store. Megan bought a lip gloss kit with an accessory bag that also came with a bottle of pale pink nail polish. She's never worn polish before, so that was a real treat. I was amazed when hubbie called later to ask when I'd be home (no surprise) and said that Megan insisted that he paint her nails. So he did. I thought it was one of the sweetest things Id heard. Almost redeeming for his behavior at the end of the evening. Almost.

So at the end of the day, Mom and I decide that, while garage sales are gut wrenching, we really have too much really good stuff left to just dump it off at Goodwill and that we should try again in a couple of weeks, at my house this time. So, we pack all of the stuff back up and load it in our trucks. Mom's coming by after work tomorrow and we'll unload her truck here. In the meantime, I'm heading home with an Expedition packed full of stuff. I'm also getting another call requesting my immediate presence at home to scratch Megan's back before bedtime. I'm hauling A. Hubbie knows I have all this stuff to unload, so I'm thinking I'll perform back scratching duties, and then unload, with his help. I come home to one kid that didn't get a bath even though she really needed it, and another dirty kid who passed out at 4:15 this afternoon and hasn't woken yet. I'm sure that will happen around 3:00 am...and guess who will get stuck dragging her tired A out of bed and trying to get him back to sleep? Not the great white hunter, I can assure you of that.

At any rate, I scratch, kiss, say goodnight and lights out for Megan. Then I look for help from hubbie and find him in bed. I ask if he's going to help and he responds with "I'm tired and my head hurts." I want to slap his face and tell him to man up. Instead, I say "I'm really tired too- and I have a ton of stuff to bring in." He says "just unload tomorrow". I tell him it can't wait- the kids will have no where to ride in the car to school tomorrow and it has to be done now. He just lays there in the dark. While I can't see him, I'm certain he's rolling his eyes and begging me, with his inside voice, to shut up. I storm off and make 15 loads into the house. Yep, 30 trips back and forth into and out of the house- not that I counted. I had steam coming out of my ears.

Here's my beef- I know he's tired from working all the OT. But that leaves me in what I like to call "single mom mode." I'm the only one at home with the kids all day and all night, every day, performing EVERY ONE of the parenting duties. I'm also doing everything else- laundry, cooking, dishes, taking out the trash, sweeping down the pool and adding chlorine at 11:00 last night, homework...you name it- I do it. You know what that means? It means I'm really F'ing tired too!!

It also means this---- if you don't have the energy to still do basic "man things" like take care of the pool and take out the trash, but you have enough energy to traipse out of town to hunt the last two weekends, you damn well better find the energy to drag your lazy ass out of the bed and help unload the truck with your wife. The very same wife who has been doing EVERYTHING.

In my opinion, there are times he just shouldn't have the option of being a P. Tonight was one of them.