Many references to squirrels Hmmm. More paths to infamy. Well. I'm going to bitch about Bill. I've always known that he is a little, well, misogynistic isn't the right word, but it's the first one that comes to mind. Misogynistic in a good, old-fashioned sort of way, like Michael Landon or your creepy old grandpa. Case in point: I went to Olympia last weekend, and I am planning to go again tomorrow, to see my Nicaraguan friends again before they leave, and to see the Procession of the Species, a great, anarchistic parade where everyone gets to dress up all goofy and get all squirrely and psychodelic. But when we were arguing about my neat-o little household budget I am implementing (I mean, of course- if you can't argue about money, something is wrong with you) he started off on other subjects, about how I hurt his feelings by leaving the house, how I should just stay home and take care of things like a good wife. He has said stuff like this before, and I must have a wonderful, baffled, pissed-off look every time he says it, because he is always almost immediately sorry, evidenced by his rapid descent into whiny, grovelling remorse. But it has gotten worse since I lost my job. Because, goddammit, he works hard to support his family and to be the man, so I should tend to his needs. That is a direct quote: "tend to his needs". Holy crippled christ, his "needs". Pardon my horrible blasphemy. The thing is, I am a good wife. I clean the house and I do a pretty damn good job. I take care of the Monkey 24 hours a day, which, if I didn't love her so completely, would be kinda like having a 15-pound, rabid, frequently-pooping squirrel chained to my leg all the time. I cook great meals, which he sometimes refuses to eat (like my Moroccan vegetable stew last night. Too much flavor, I guess). But I love Bill, and I guess his quirky ways add to his flavor. The squirrel has landed. |