I just got a phone call from a family member of my husband's - asking me to have my firefighter come straight over to his house when he gets home - to hook up his new Blue-Ray and HDMI cables. Umm, I am not going to call my husband and tell him that before he sees his kids (which I suppose he did get to spend the holidays with us- we trekked dowtown to E2 on Christmas Eve and Christmas morning we opened presents together via Skype) and sits down he has to hook up your presents. I am not going to tell my husband that before he eats any of the french toast casserole he missed out on at E2 because he brought a child molester back to the land of the living after a suicide attempt at the jail, that he has to do your work for you. YOU call him.
So, my firefighter's phone rings just as he hits the door and is mobbed by the Muppets and K9 crew, and he is off to save the day, again.
I understand that, big time. I just want to say sometimes, "I'm sorry. I married him. I'd like to see him. Wait your turn."
ReplyDelete@FireMom of Stop, Drop & Blog.
Oooh, I hate that too!!
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