September 03, 2006

"You'd live in shit if you could"

"You'd live in shit if you could. Oh, I forgot you already did. When you lived with your mom. Thank god she's dead. Now your dad can finally pick up her crap. Now that house looks half decent."

This is what my wife was hollering at me today after I refused to obey her demands that I re-finish the kitchen for her.

Recently, my wife has decided that she doesn't like the kitchen the way it is, and she's going to re-finish it. This isn't any thing new, she does this to one room or another every time she gets really manic. She has ripped all the border down from the walls, taken down all the shelves, and just recently un-screwed all of the cabinet doors and removed all the drawers. The cabinent doors are thrown all about our back yard after she opened the back door and tossed them without a care about what happens to them (apparently "living in shit" does not apply to the back yard).

I'm so very frustrated right now because when my wife gets into these modes, she doesn't care that we can't afford to take on the kinds of projects that she wants to do. She just rips things down and expects me to whip that credit card right out and buy new stuff. Furthermore, she expects me to be the one to install all of it. And when I don't do that, she gets mad at me.

From her perspective, it is my fault that the kitchen is a mess now and I won't make it better. From my perspective, it is her fault that she ripped everything in the kitchen down and it simply an un-avoidable truth that we don't have the money to fix it.

I felt the kitchen looked nice like it was. But now things are destroyed, and will take a lot of work to get back to looking nice again. My holiday weekend is shot.

All of this comes after a long week of installing a new front door on the house, patching another wall in the house, and taking her shoppping (all on top of putting in a regular work week). I never got any credit for any of that by the way, that all stuff I was just "supposed to do"

I suppose I wouldn't mind having a nice looking kitchen. And I really wouldn't mind putting the work into making it look nice, except this is the third or fourth time that I've put work into making that kitchen look nice in the five years we've lived here. I get tired of working hard on making things nice when I know it will all be destroyed in less than a year.

So here I am, sitting up in my room, listening to my wife holler up at me with insults about me and my dead mother. Meanwhile she's downstairs getting more and more angry because I'm not down there helping her. I suppose she figures that if she hurts me enough that will be just the motivation I need to go down there and paint something.

Posted by ehdonhon at 04:20 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack